Twice Tempted (17 page)

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Authors: Eileen Dreyer

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General, #Erotica

BOOK: Twice Tempted
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Fiona looked down at her newest companion. Beneath that squashed, filthy top hat was a heart-shaped face that had almost been completely masked by dirt. Pointed little chin, big blue eyes, heartbreakingly young voice. Even more heartbreaking, caution that Fiona recognized all too well.

“This swell does,” she agreed, still rocking Mairead in her arms so her sister wouldn’t notice how the movement of the carriage changed. “He’s an earl.”

Lennie whistled. “Crikey.”

“Don’t worry,” Fiona reassured them both as she assessed the stark white marble facade that stretched up four stories behind the black grilled fence. “He is a very nice man. He’ll make you feel very welcome.”

She had no idea whether he would or not. It didn’t matter. This was where Alex had brought them, and evidently this was where they would stay. Fiona knew she should resent Alex’s high-handedness. She should challenge his right to take over her life, as if she had never faced danger before. As if she hadn’t survived worse.

As if she wouldn’t again.

Still, she couldn’t quite whip up any resentment. Worse, she suspected she was relieved.
Cautiously
relieved, she amended to herself. It seemed like such a luxury to have someone else help bear some of her burdens, even though she knew perfectly well how it usually turned out when she allowed it.

Can’t I simply enjoy it for the moment?
she thought. Rest a bit, knowing that Alex would at least try to help her? It couldn’t make the disappointment any worse when she ended up having to reclaim the weight later, could it?

She rubbed at her smoke-irritated eyes and sighed. Of course it could. She knew from experience.

The carriage ground to a halt, and Fiona caught sight of Alex’s long leg as he swung down from the box, then his torso, then the back of his head, his hair near black in the predawn gray. Even in the disreputable attire he had affected, he could never be mistaken for a denizen of the slums. His posture was too instinctively straight, his presence too striking, his calm authority too ingrained. He was a leader. A touchstone. He assumed responsibility the way another might a uniform.

Just the sight of him threatened Fiona’s hard-won equanimity. Just the sound of his voice made her want to lay her head in his lap and ask him to hold her, to forestall the trembling weakness that gathered in her like swarming bees. The sight of him made her want, oddly, to weep. And she hadn’t done that in years. Not since the last time Mairead had gone quiet.

When Alex pulled open the door this time and reached in a hand, Fiona closed her eyes, just a moment. Long enough to snap that connection that seemed to inexorably grow between them, fed now with the memory of sunlight and drapes.

Then, turning to Mrs. Quick, she smiled. “You first, Mrs. Q. I need to get Mairead settled.”

Mrs. Quick grabbed Alex’s hand and stepped down, followed by Lennie. Fiona watched the latter’s disembarkation and wondered at the disparity of what she saw in the child.

Then, suddenly she knew.
Of course
, she thought with a smile. If she hadn’t been so distracted, she would have seen it right away. She was a bit amazed that Alex hadn’t.

“Come along, Mae,” she murmured to her sister, prying her sister’s hand from her own. “Alex Knight is here to help us get to our beds. Take his hand, please.”

“Not our beds.” Mairead sighed, head bent over the pillow. “Not ours.”

“No, sweetings,” Fiona agreed, gently pulling Mairead’s hand toward Alex’s outstretched one. “Not really. I know. But ours for tonight. Ours until ours are ready again and not reeking of smoke. Your lungs won’t tolerate our house right now.”

All the while she spoke, she nudged her sister toward the door and then followed when Mairead stepped down.

“We’ll stay here today, Lady Mairead,” Alex said, his voice as calm as Fiona’s.

That got Mairead’s eyes open, but not for the reason Alex thought, Fiona knew.

“I am
not
a lady,” Mairead seethed, yanking her hand back. “Not any
kind
of a lady. Not as long as that selfish, sanctimonious son of a bitch lives. Do you have my books, Fee?”

One foot on the ground, Fiona managed a grin. “In the boot, Mae. Now come along before we outrage the entire neighborhood. And apologize for your language, please. We might not be ladies, but that does not make us soldiers on leave, either.”

Mairead’s giggle was high and frantic. Fiona held her breath.

“My apologies, my lord,” Mairead managed, still giggling as she dropped a perfect curtsy in the street. “I seem to be all about in my head this morning.”

Alex was kind enough to smile back. “Miss Mairead,” he said, bowing back, “if I had been through what you have tonight, I would have used language that brought a sailor to blush. You are excused.”

His levity seemed to have broken her mood, at least for now. Fiona knew that sleep would be perilous for the next few days, for both of them. Mairead hadn’t been the only one to trip over that poor man. But for now, they were managing.

“I see we have guests,” she heard as they were ushered in the front door.

Fiona looked up to see a dapper white-haired gentleman in perfect evening attire stepping into the foyer with some papers in his hand. Not as tall as Alex, he was slim and sleekly handsome, with the merriest hazel eyes she had ever seen and a rather unhealthy pallor to his skin.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Alex said, looking discomposed. “I thought you were still gone.”

The man had a gentle smile. “House parties are a bore. Got back just a bit ago.”

Alex ushered Fiona forward. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve brought company.”

Lennie whipped off his top hat and bowed. Mrs. Quick curtsied.

The gentleman waved a hand. “Of course not. Introduce us, please.”

“Mairead,” Alex continued with a tense smile. “Forgive me, but formalities must be observed. Lady Fiona, Lady Mairead, may I present my father, Sir Joseph Knight. Father, Lady Fiona and Lady Mairead Hawes. They prefer to go by the name Ferguson, though.”

“A pleasure,” Sir Joseph said with a smile and a bow of the head. Fiona nudged Mairead into curtsying alongside her, the pillow still clutched to her chest.

“Your names are different,” Mairead said, head tilted. “And Knight outranks you.”

“Only in the College of Arms,” Alex said with a grin. “Sir Joseph has been my father since I was ten. I would have no other.”

For a long moment Mairead just stared at them both. “Huh,” she finally said. “Interesting.”

Considering the last they remembered of their own father had been stepping over his drunk form on the way out the door, Fiona could understand Mae’s bemusement.

Alex gestured to the remaining guests. “Their housekeeper, Mrs. Quick, and Lennie, who has assisted us. Chuffy and Thrasher will be along shortly. ”

“Already here,” Fiona heard from the doorway and turned to see Chuffy hurrying in, followed by Thrasher. “Heard. Bad business. Oranges. Should have known.”

Alex frowned. “Oranges? What should you have known?”

But Chuffy ignored him. Instead he walked right up to Mairead, who only flinched a bit when he took her hand. “Miss Mairead?” he asked, peering up at her. “Here to help. All right?”

Fiona could feel the fine tremors swell in her sister and wanted to hurry her along. Mairead’s feet were planted, though. “Yes, please,” she said, reaching over to give Chuffy’s glasses a little push. “I don’t have a house.”

Chuffy’s smile was so sweet that Fiona almost smiled back. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I assume they’ll all need a place to stay,” Lord Knight said.

Fiona saw that Alex’s smile was tentative. “For a day or two, I think.”

His father nodded to Lennie. “Young man, pull that cord, please. We’ll have the rooms readied immediately.”

Fiona saw that Mairead hadn’t taken her gaze from Chuffy. Reaching into his pocket, Chuffy brought out a handkerchief and rubbed at the soot from her face. Fiona was torn. She instinctively wanted to push Chuffy away, to be the protective barrier for Mairead she’d always been. And yet, Mairead was calmer than any time tonight.

“Thank you, Sir Joseph,” Fiona said, turning back to Alex’s father. “I would like to get my sister to bed, if I may. She has had a bad night.”

Fiona thought of the keening, so recently ended, and prayed that nothing started it up again. She thought of the perilous state of her own control and wanted to protect it. What belonged in a burned-out school in Blackheath did not in a house in Mayfair.

“I shall get Mrs. Soames, shall I, sir?” came a starchy voice from the direction of the green baize door. Evidently the butler had been roused.

“Indeed, Soames.” Sir Joseph gestured expansively. “Rooms for everyone.”

Chuffy looked up, still holding Mairead’s hands. “Security here. Finney insisted.”

Alex turned to Thrasher. “You told him.”

Thrasher shrugged. “He knew. Said it’s not your fault. It ’appens.”

“What happens?” Alex’s father quietly asked.

Fiona shuddered. She could still see that obscenity, could still feel the splashes of blood congealing on her nightdress.

Alex turned to his father. “I’ll explain when I get the ladies settled, sir. I’m sorry. I don’t suppose you’d like to spend a day or two at the club to avoid all this.”

His father gave him a steely look. “I would not. I might suggest securing a chaperone, however. This is essentially a gentleman’s house.”

Alex nodded. “We can call upon Lady Bea to come.”

Sir Joseph frowned. “You would put that gentle lady at risk?”

Both of the younger men grinned. “Tougher than you think,” Chuffy said.

“I’ll explain,” Alex said.

Sir Joseph frowned. “Soon, I hope.”

“As soon as the ladies are settled, sir,” Alex promised.

All the men were about to disperse when Fiona turned. “Excuse me. Lennie, will you help us upstairs?”

Everybody turned surprised eyes on her, especially Lennie.

“Get my books,” Mairead said. “They are quite heavy. I need to lie down, Fee. Please. I’m sorry. I’m tired. You understand. It’s been a…a long…”

It seemed that Sir Joseph was a master of adaptability and affability. Within minutes Mrs. Quick was ensconced in a small room in the servants’ wing, Thrasher was sent off with a note for Lady Bea, and Lennie was helping Mairead and Fiona up the stairs, Fiona’s portmanteau bumping at each stair.

As Fiona was guiding Mae up the steps, she saw Alex take hold of Chuffy’s arm. “Oranges?” he demanded. “What did you mean?”

Chuffy blinked. “Oh, right. You weren’t there. Minette Ferrar, my lad. Plays with the things. Should have picked up on it. Have a feeling it’s her new signature.”

Fiona stopped on the spot, her skin crawling. Madame Fermont had smelled of oranges.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Alex breathed, actually paling. “We need to tell Drake.”

“You need to tell
me
,” Fiona said, causing all the men to turn her way. “Is this about my guest for tea the other day?”

For a minute she didn’t think anyone was going to answer. Then, with an abrupt shifting of his feet, Alex sighed. “After you get your sister settled, if you’d come back down to the library. You’ll be shown the way.”

She wanted to ask more, but suddenly knew she shouldn’t. Not in front of witnesses. Especially not in front of Mairead, who was already fragile as isinglass. So she nodded and continued to climb. God, she was so tired. Pulled like taffy and aching to her very heart. It looked, though, as if she wouldn’t see her bed any time soon.

Fiona accompanied Mairead to a very pretty yellow-and-white suite that overlooked the back garden and came with two bedrooms and a young maid named Suzy. Fiona did no more than pull off Mairead’s slippers before covering her up and dousing the candles, asking Suzy to stay in the dressing room for now in case Mairead woke. Taking time only to splash her face with lukewarm water, she crept back out.

She’d meant to return right to the library. Instead Lennie waited for her in the sitting room. Sighing, she stopped to assess the fine features and large eyes. “I believe you need to tell Lord Whitmore the truth, little one,” she said.

Lennie froze like prey scenting a hunter. “What?”

Fiona was desperate to get downstairs for some answers. So she faced her new friend with a smile. “Either you tell him, Lennie,” she said gently, “or I will.”

*  *  *

This night was fast becoming a nightmare. The last thing Alex wanted was to bring yet more danger to his father’s doorstep. If he could have, he would have personally bundled Sir Joseph up and dropped him at White’s, at least until he could get the women out and the letter investigated. It was unconscionable to put more strain on his father’s heart.

This was also not the way Alex had envisioned telling his father about Drake’s Rakes. He wasn’t certain he’d thought to tell his father at all, especially since he’d seen that damning letter. If Sir Joseph actually had shared troop reports with a known traitor, Alex could be compromising more than just the Rakes by revealing the truth.

But Alex refused to believe that Sir Joseph Knight, who had taught him the meaning of honor and loyalty, would compromise his own integrity. He could not imagine a world in which the most honorable man in Britain would sell out his country.

He would not have betrayed his friend, as his son had.

“It’s a good thing your mother and sisters aren’t here,” Sir Joseph said, when Alex finished bringing his father up to date. “I would have flayed you alive if you had put them in danger.”

“I would rather not put you in danger, either,” Alex insisted.

Not surprisingly, Sir Joseph waved him off. “I am no porcelain doll, boy. I worry about your sister Pip, though.”

Alex was pacing again, back in his father’s study. “I’ll make sure Beau keeps her busy at that house party.”

“For how long?”

Alex stopped by the front window. “Well, once Chuffy gets back with Lady Bea we’ll decide where she and the Ferguson sisters will be safe. We’ll be moving in one, two days at most. But the danger won’t end until we can stop Minette Ferrar. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am, sir.”

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