To Love A Lord of London (Wardington Park; Raptures of Royalty) (23 page)

E
very eye
at the table was on them.

“Pardon me,” she whispered down the table. “I shall return momentarily. Please, enjoy your meal.”

“Don’t go too far.” The dark warning had come from Joseph, who, as the head of their household, sat close to Jane’s side. His dark eyes watched her, telling her everything she needed to know. There would be no running off.

“I won’t,” she promised. Her chair was moved, and Jane walked as fast as she could toward the hall, leaving the dining room behind.

The further she walked, the lower the noise from the party touched her ears. She lifted the skirts of her green gown as she headed toward the balcony. Her room, which was located two flights up and on the other side of the townhouse, was too far from her current location. And since she promised to return soon, she decided to stay close.

S
he looked
out into the street below her home and watched as a hack went down the deserted road. It was late, which meant most of the residents in the West End were at some event for the evening. The opera. A ball. A dinner party like the one she’d just escaped from… or even some romantic rendezvous with a sweetheart.

She touched her lips and closed her eyes, remembering the way that William had touched her there. Had he been thinking about his deceased mystery woman when he’d kissed her? Catherine said they’d been in love, and his sadness indicated that he still loved her. Still thought of her. Jane was simply standing in, for there was no way he could love another and her.

She laughed at the sky, because though she’d tried to fight it, more than anything, she’d allowed herself to hope that one day William would love her. Feel something for her… much like her own feelings for him. Feelings she could never share with him or risk looking like a fool.

W
ould
every river in her life be polluted with falsehood? For once, Jane wished to bare her soul to someone. Anyone. William. She wanted to tell him everything. Especially since he seemed so keen to get involved, and he was the only one who knew where the meeting would be held tonight. She had to be there, and since she doubted that William would let her go alone, they’d have to go together.

“Dinner has ended.”

She spun around, not surprised at all to find William standing there. He emerged from the lights inside the house, and the darkness of the balcony engulfed him, plunging him into the shadows as he walked toward her.

He didn’t stop until his feet were practically touching hers, the tip of his dress shoes less than an inch from her slippers. His hand came up and touched her cheek. “The women are taking tea while the men are discussing the next hunt. We’ve time to ourselves.”

J
ane closed her eyes
, then popped them open and asked, “What was her name?”

His gloved fingers paused, still touching her without pressure. “Whose name?”

“The name of the woman you loved?” Anything to stop the fluttering inside of her that always happened to come when he was around. She’d known her question would end the warmth of the moment, but it was exactly what she’d needed in order to stay sane around him.

He stared at her, and though it was hard to see his eyes in the dark, she knew where his eyes were. He dropped his hand. “Why do you wish to know?”

The fact that he didn’t just tell her the name spoke volumes. He was still in love with her. “Well, I realize that I know nothing about you.”

He scoffed, “There’s plenty of that going around.”

She turned toward the railing again. She did have her own secrets. It was unfair to be angered that he had his own. And yet, “I’ve come to realize that the only information I know about you are the things that everyone knows.”

He came to stand by the rails, his hands coming to rest not too far from hers. He looked at her. “And what is it that society has told you about me?”

J
ane turned to him
, “You’re twenty-five. Your older brother, Charles, died in the war, much like my own brother. They say you’re a good son because you always give your mother whatever she wants. They say you’re very good at politics and with your clean reputation, you’ll be looking to become Prime Minister one day. They say—”

“
W
hat do you say
?” he asked.

Jane’s heart began to beat furiously. “What do I say?”

He nodded, “What do you see?” He turned from the rail and opened his arms in a symbol as if he were an open book. From this angle, the light caught his face, highlighting his deep features.

Jane narrowed her eyes. What did she see? A strikingly handsome man who’d not allowed anger to cloud his vision and instead had come to understand that Jane was just as much a victim the night of the Wardington Ball as he was. She also saw a man who could set her pulse racing with only a word and gave her kisses that made her feel light as air. “I see a man trying to right the wrongs of the past.”

W
illiam took
a step away from Jane while dropping his arms. The thumping in his chest took speed at her words. The words had not been expected, yet like some kind of prophetess, she’d spoken as if she could see right into his soul. “Explain,” he prompted her, though he feared her words.

J
ane stared at him
. Short and defiant, she was strength’s cornerstone. “They say your father wasn’t… the best husband.” That was putting it mildly. Though his father had cared for his son, he hadn’t given a care for the wife who had borne them. “It’s your brother’s death and your father’s ill treatment that leads you never to object any of your mother’s requests. You wish to see her happy, which is noble of you.”

William crossed his arms, “I do what I can for family.”

Jane stared at him. “As do I.”

He held her eyes. “Is this why you do what you do? For family?”

She nodded.

“I want to help you.”

Then she shook her head, “No, you don’t.” Her brown eyes looked so innocent. “You wish to help
her.
”

He knew who
her
was. Isabella. “I can’t help her.”

“I know. She’s dead. So, instead, you help me. Another noble feat, I might add. You couldn’t save her, so you wish to save me.”

H
e remained silent
, because most of what Jane said was true. The carriage accident alone had brought back memories of the other event in the past that hadn’t ended in survival. He’d wanted to help Jane because this time, he could. Saving Jane was, in part, saving Isabella. But, not completely. “I don’t wish to see you hurt.”

Jane smiled, and it touched him to the soles of his feet. “Nor do I wish it for you.”

He took a step toward her. “I’ll not let you out of my sight this night. You will not go to that meeting alone.” If at all.

She nodded, “I know, which is why you will come with me.”

H
e narrowed his eyes
. “But, I’m the only one with the address. I could always go alone.”

“You could, but there’s no guarantee they’ll speak to you.”

He frowned, “They? Don’t you mean ‘His Grace’?”

Jane looked surprised. “No, it’s always one of his foot soldiers. Never him. Let us pray we are never to meet His Grace. That would be bad.”

“What’s his name?” he asked.

A small, brown brow lifted. “What’s hers?”

He grinned. The opportunities. Would any moment of their future be dull? He seriously doubted it. “Isabella,” he whispered.

“Gore,” she told him. “James Gore.”

William recognized the name immediately. “Captain James Gore?”

Jane nodded, “When he returned from the war, he, like so many of the other military men, had no job to return to. The king provided nothing for these men, so they were forced to find their own way. Captain Gore has been running the East End for years.”

W
illiam believed her
. So many men were without employment, and the new law that was passed this year made it illegal to beg. William had tried to help where he could, but it was hard fighting a room of men who were stuck on their wealth and tradition. It was one reason why William wished to be Prime Minister, why he kept his reputation clean. He wanted to change the world.

“We’re not going to the meeting tonight. I know Captain Gore. I will speak to him myself.”

“How?” Jane asked.

“I’ll set up a meeting with the man, and if I can find evidence of his criminal activity, I will see him shipped to Australia.” Or worse.

Jane seemed hesitant. “Perhaps, I should still go to the meeting tonight. If I don’t show, a meeting with him the next morning might be too late for my family.”

“Then we must tell your family what is going on.”

“We can’t.”

“Their lives are in danger.”

Jane shook her head, “Not their lives… just our own reputation. Our status in London. If what Gore has were to get out, there is nothing anyone could do for us. We’d be all but banished from this country.”

William held her cheeks. “Is it your stealing? Because, that can be told in a way that brings pity on you instead of shame. You were forced to steal—”

“No, William. It’s not my stealing. It’s the… the reason why I steal. There’s something else…”

“
T
ell me
.”

“It’s horrible.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

Jane still didn’t believe him, but water built in her eyes.

William wanted to curse. “Jane, you are to be my wife. I wish to protect what is mine.”

“Am I yours?”

Such a question. He leaned toward her and whispered, “You were mine to do with as I pleased from the moment you struck me over the head.”

She smiled, “Technically, I didn’t hit you.”

“No matter. You are mine. I wished you in prison. Now, I wish you free. With me.”

H
er gloved
hands came to rest on his jacket, over his heart. Then, she leaned up and kissed him.
She
kissed
him
. He hadn’t been prepared for it. He hadn’t been prepared for how much he’d enjoy it. How much this small woman had conquered all his defenses, rendering him useless to anything that wasn’t her. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer as the kiss changed. Jane had become skilled in her tactics, mapping his mouth with her own, knowing just where to touch and when. It would be hours later before William would finally have a moment to himself in order to sit back and think about this momentous occasion. Hours until he was lounging in his office and deciding just what his feelings for Jane truly meant. Hours until he’d send a man off to the spot where Jane had been called to meet one of Gore’s men at. Hours until he reached into his coat pocket and realized that the note was no longer there. The address gone. Stolen by a thief with the most kissable of lips.

J
ane
, for the first time in days, didn’t feel eyes drilling into her back. At least, none that had been hired by the earl. But being in East End always meant possible danger. She could tell that some of the eyes that watched her wished her harm, but whenever someone got the courage to approach her, there was always someone around to hold them back.
She’s with His Grace,
they’d say. Jane was off limits to the crime that happened in these parts, protected by the worst villain of them all.

M
usic and laughter
shot out of an open door as a drunkard tumbled down the steps of a known brothel. He passed out not far down the sidewalk right before a group of boys attacked his pockets, taking everything they could find. The scene was not new to her, though it still filled Jane’s blood with fear. She’d been so busy watching and growing nervous that she hadn’t been watching where she was going until she bumped into something.

A pair of dark arms shot out to steady her, and she shrieked while gazing up into the eyes of Noel. The tall man smelt awful, evidence of poor grooming and too many spirits. He was a thin man who looked to barely eat, but what he lacked in muscle he made up for in strength. He held Jane tightly, his bright blue eyes holding hers.

N
oel yanked
down her hood and grinned while looking down at her. “Well, aren’t you looking pretty tonight.”

She’d changed out of her gown but hadn’t had time to take down her hair or clean her face. The faint makeup she’d worn for the dinner party still lingered.

The brute, who was still holding her, then leaned down and inhaled her scent, rubbing his nose on her neck. “You smell good as well.”

Jane felt her stomach turn as she tried to stretch away from him. She was protected by Gore. He couldn’t touch her like this, couldn’t make advances. “Release me.”

“His Grace is very upset with you. He believes you’ve told the earl our little secret.”

Jane frowned, “I wouldn’t have had to tell him anything if Nelly had not hit Lord Cartridge over the head,” she hissed.

N
oel lifted a brow
. “You’re pretty chatty tonight. We heard about your engagement.” He gave a sly grin, and in another world, Noel would have easily been considered handsome. But, he was a monster of the worst kind. “You think the earl can protect you, don’t you?”

She wasn’t foolish enough to think so. “What is this meeting about? I told Bruno that Lord Cartridge knows what happened that night. He’s looking for Gore.”

“And he’s going to find him,” Noel told her, a knowing look in his eyes. “Tonight.” His grip tightened.

Dread of the worst kind filled her. Coming had been a bad idea. “What do you mean?”

“Cartridge will come looking for you, and when he finds you, we’ll kill him.”

“No!”

Noel laughed. The wretched beast! He leaned over to whisper in Jane’s ear, “And for betraying Gore, he says I can do whatever I want with you for one night. That’ll teach you to go running for help.”

“No!” She started to fight then. “Please!” She tried to fight, but in the next moment, a cloth covered her mouth, and for the second time that week, Jane succumbed to darkness.

“
I
should have never allowed
her to leave my sight.” William’s anger surrounded him like a black cloud. “Can’t this carriage move any faster?” The time was close to three in the morning, which meant that parties and other gatherings would be winding down. Horses and carriages making their way home flooded the street.

Cornelius sat quietly on the other side of the ride, not saying a word, wisely remaining silent.

He allowed William to continue, “You said your men were at the meeting spot before she got there?”

“Yes.”

“And they saw her get taken away?”

“Yes.”

“And did nothing?” he was screaming now.

“We followed them. We thought you wanted Gore.”

“I do,” he insisted, fidgeting in his chair, crossing one knee over the other before settling back down. “I simply want Jane more.”

A
brow lifted
on Cornelius’s stern face. “Do you love her?”

William choked, “What? I’ve only known the girl for three days.”

“And yet you proposed to her,” Cornelius countered. “You asked her to marry you.”

William looked away. “There was no other choice. She’d been compromised.”

“Isabella had been compromised. You didn’t offer her marriage.”

William didn’t speak as shame filled him.

This time, it was Cornelius who continued, “You gave her jewels and fine clothing, but you left her in the East End, allowed her to live amongst the poor and hungry, placing her life in danger.”

Her image came to his mind immediately. The smiling, playful Isabella. She’d been a barmaid at a pub he and his mates visited once. She’d served their table and had immediately caught William’s eye. He’d been young at the time—still in school at Cambridge, but already an earl. He’d known that he couldn’t have Isabella for a wife. Society would not allow such a thing… but he’d had her in another way. And like Cornelius had said, he’d bought her jewelry but never moved her to a safer part of London. William hadn’t wanted anyone to know about her and owning another property would have raised questions. He’d been a very selfish man then. “I hadn’t meant to—”

“She died because you never loved her.”

William looked at his assistant and spoke calmly, “I did love her.”

“But not anymore.”

“
I
t’s been
over six years.”

“And I think of my sister everyday!” Cornelius thundered.

William stared at the man he’d pulled off the streets—a deed he’d done not only because of his understanding of the East End, but also because Cornelius was Isabella’s brother. It was all simply more of his way of correcting the wrongs of his past.

The carriage came to a halt.

“Are we here?”

“Yes, we are,” Cornelius said, then gave a grim grin to try and lighten the mood. “Let me get out first to make sure it’s safe.” Then he leapt out. This fight they had was an old one, yet it never stopped Cornelius from doing his job.