Natalia’s Secret Spinster’s Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

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Natalia’s Secret Spinster’s Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 5

by Charlotte Stone


  Mrs. Wells’ eyes missed his by an inch. Her gaze was not focused on his chin, which told him everything he needed to know. She knew who he was, remembered him from Oxford. But what else did she know? Who was she? The only reason he didn’t lunge for her and break her neck was because she’d not been the one to give Lord Reinburg the note and had been in a tussle with the woman who had.

  Everything about the woman said she was young except for her eyes. The knowledge he glimpsed in them told him differently.

  And then there was the way she held herself. Even broken, she did not waver. And then his eyes fell to her breasts, which told him she’d undoubtedly reached her maturity.

  Mrs. Wells. He wanted to know her first name. And who was Mr. Wells? There was only one reason for a woman to be in this house with Maura, and William didn’t like what his mind pictured. Any man who’d lifted a hand to her deserved to rot in hell.

  She met his eyes and flinched as though hit by the heat she saw there.

  The Runner called her attention, and William moved into another chair in the room and settled in to hear her speak for the first time.

  “Hortense called me from this very room.”

  “You’re French, ma’am?” the Runner asked. Her accent was so clear she could be nothing else.

  “Oui.” She pulled in another breath and offered everyone a glimpse of her lovely smile as Hortense brought in tea. “Merci.” She took a sip of the offered drink then held it close to her chest.

  William had a feeling that had no one else been in the room, she’d have held it against her stomach where Mr. James has struck her.

  Before any more could be said, a tall and rather muscular woman came into the room, holding a frying pan in one hand and a large knife in the other. Rage filled her dark eyes as she looked around the room. “Where is he?”

  Maura lifted her hands in peace. “Fanny, Mr. James is no longer here. And look, Clara is safe.”

  Fanny looked over at Clara, but seeing the woman only made her angrier.

  Mrs. Wells gave a soft moan of discomfort that caught everyone’s attention. Then her eyes found Fanny. “Oh, Fanny, it is sweet that you wish to defend Clara, but what Clara really needs is peace.”

  Something seemed to click in the aggressive woman’s eyes and she calmed. “Yes.” She lowered her weapons, and Mr. Small took his seat once more.

  Fanny looked at Clara. “You can have anything you wish for tonight.”

  Clara smiled. “You do make the best chicken in the whole world, Fanny.”

  Fanny bowed, gave one final smile to Clara, and then left.

  “Where did you get her?” William asked Maura.

  “Bancroft,” Maura answered. She turned to Mrs. Wells. “Please, continue.” There was no time for William to make a comment about what he’d heard. Someone associated with Gyft Bancroft. a man who was part businessman and part criminal, was in the house? He and Julius shared a look that said it was something that needed to be discussed with the Brotherhood at a later time.

  Mrs. Wells told her account of what had taken place and blushed when she mentioned taking the fire poker from the house.

  “Did you really think you could take on a man like Mr. James?” the Runner asked in disbelief.

  Mrs. Wells shrugged. “I had no thought for myself. All that mattered was keeping Clara safe.”

  Clara James sniffled from where she sat in the corner of the room. Maura had an arm around the weeping woman.

  “Thank you, Leah,” Clara said.

  Leah.

  William liked it.

  Clara wiped her nose and said, “I hope you’re not in trouble because of me.” Already the bruise on her chin was turning blue. A knock from that angle, if done right, could have rendered the woman unconscious. William’s thoughts of Mr. James lowered to freezing levels.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Leah told her. “I’d do it again if I had to. I’d do anything for my friends.” She smiled at Clara and then her eyes passed over William. Though it was only a fleeting look before she turned away, he felt that gaze as if she’d put her hand on him.

  Having everything he needed, the Runner stood. “If Mr. James requests his wife, I will have to return, and if she is here, I will have to take her to him.”

  “No.” Maura gathered Clara closer.

  The Runner lifted his hand and repeated himself more slowly. “If she is here, I will have to take her to him.” Once he lowered his hand, he said, “For now, Mr. James will be taken to a place where we know he’ll be safe from any retaliation by the local nobility. It will be for his own good. Perhaps, three days?” Then he bowed and left.

  William smiled.

  Maura turned to him. “Did he just say he’d hold Mr. James for three days and that he’d not take Clara if she was not here when he returned?”

  William stared at her and said, “You heard him.”

  “Where else could you go?” Maura asked Clara.

  Clara shook her head. “There’s nowhere that my husband is not aware of.” She blushed before glancing in William’s direction. “Thank you, Sir William. If you’d not come, I…” She looked ready to weep again.

  After having stood through the seven weddings of his closest friends, William had grown used to crying women. He walked over to her and placed a hand of comfort on her shoulder. “I’ll not let him hurt you. I swear it.”

  Clara nodded.

  William went on, “But only if you swear to protect yourself and everyone in this home.”

  Clara’s eyes widened, but she didn’t pretend not to understand. How Mr. James had found her was the question, and William already knew the answer to it. He knew soldiers who took their anger out on their wives, yet many a bride returned to the very place that caused her pain. Clara had been the one to lead Mr. James here. William knew it without asking.

  As did everyone else who lived in the house.

  She’d put many more women in danger by bringing her husband here.

  Clara nodded. “I’ll… try.”

  William let her go then moved to sit in the chair that the Runner had taken, which was across from Leah.

  She tracked his moves before turning away. “I believe I’d like to go to my room now.”

  “In a moment,” William told her. “You and I must speak.”

  “What's this about?” Julius asked from the other side of the room.

  Was it only his imagination or did Leah turn her head away from Julius’ view?

  William crossed his arms. “I wanted to offer Mrs. Wells some advice on how to defend herself the next time she tries to rescue someone. We won’t be long.”

  Leah looked at him again but then turned away.

  Maura showed Clara out of the room but not before the girl thanked William again.

  Julius told him, “I’ll meet you in the parlor.”

  Zed stayed.

  William turned to him. “Leave us.”

  “That wouldn’t be appropriate,” the sometimes butler said. More recently, he’d become Lorena’s eyes and ears in the Spinster’s Home. Taken off the street, he’d more than earned William’s respect through the years. William knew Zed would defend his mistress with his very life, but Leah was not Lorena, and William wanted him gone.

  “We won’t be long,” William told him.

  Zed stepped forward. “Still—”

  “Mr. Sudworth,” Leah said sweetly. “I’ll be all right, and I promise to call if I need anything.” She held the servant’s eyes.

  Zed still hesitated but then bowed before leaving.

  William frowned in his wake. Did Zed have that reaction with all the women in the home or was Leah special to him?

  Another matter for another day.

  He turned to Leah and said, “Is Leah Wells your real name?”

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  CH
APTER SEVEN

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  Leah thought her heart would burst from her chest, but she managed to hold herself together and not break under William’s directness.

  This meeting was highly inappropriate. He’d only just been introduced to Leah Wells. Never mind that he’d known Natalia Hext for more than twenty years. He didn’t know who she was. Not really. Had he known, he wouldn’t have sent Julius away. Instead, he’d have exposed her and then they might have killed her before she’d managed to take her next breath.

  The one good thing about her rushing pulse was that it numbed her stomach somewhat. Mr. James had hit her so hard that she was constantly fighting to hold back tears.

  She would have enjoyed being alone in her room for the rest of the day, lying in bed, but instead, she was with him.

  The Vagabond.

  Eighteen years and he still drove her mad.

  “Why would you suspect that wasn't my name?” Leah asked with more than a hint of French in her speech. She grabbed the teacup from the table and was glad her fingers didn’t tremble. She should leave and could have if she’d made a bigger fuss out of her injuries, but she wanted to know why he’d called the meeting and what he knew.

  His velvet-green gaze had that uncivilized edge, as though at any moment he would transform into a beast.

  She knew he could. He could kill her before she ever got a sound out. She’d have to be very careful about what she said next.

  He leaned forward, a sudden gesture that startled her to the point that she’d not been able to hide it. Tea spilled on her fingers, and she put the cup down. He leaned his elbows on his knees and though he was still some distance away, Leah wanted to crawl away.

  “Your last name, Wells, is very English,” he told her.

  She nodded. “Well, that would be because my husband was English. I came here after we wed.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you’re not English.”

  She laughed to hide her growing anxiety. “Of course not.”

  “How many years have you been here?”

  “Barely one.” Her rehearsed story fell from her lips with ease, a mixture of truth and lies. “Why do you wish to know?”

  “What were you doing in Oxford?”

  Her heart rocked and then stilled its beating for a time before starting again. She’d suspected he’d recognized her, and yet she’d held out hope that she’d been wrong. How had he known? She’d been wearing different hair at the time. No man paid that much attention to a woman. “I believe you are mistaken. I—”

  He placed a hand on hers. His hands were rough and bruised from his fight. “Don’t lie to me.” His cool voice turned their already cold room into an icebox.

  “I… was there to see a friend.”

  “Who?”

  She glared at him and tried to take back her hand but couldn’t. “I thank you for what you did to save my life, but that doesn’t give you the right to touch me.”

  “I want to the truth,” he replied. His hand didn’t move.

  “And I want my hand.” Her eyes didn’t waver though she trembled inside.

  They stared at one another silently and then, ever so slowly, William retracted his hold. It took everything within Leah to keep her hand on the chair’s arm and not cradle it to herself.

  “Who did you visit?”

  “I don’t have to tell you.”

  “Are you the blackmailer?”

  She’d been prepared for that question. “What?” She forced her face to bloom into an expression of surprise.

  His lips turned down. “You heard me. Who was that woman you met with at the observatory?”

  Leah narrowed her eyes. “I met no woman at the observatory.”

  His face went expressionless, and Leah’s throat closed. He lowered his voice, even though they were the only ones in the room. “Lie to me again and you’ll regret it.”

  Murderer.

  She leaned away then, so she wouldn't have to pretend to fear him. “Sir William, I did not meet anyone—”

  He stood and crouched over her, balancing his weight on the chair, crowding her into the cushion. “There was a blonde woman with a hat. You spoke with her.”

  Leah frowned. He had seen her speaking with Sarah. She relaxed her face and let what she hoped looked like understanding dawning come to her features. “You mean that horrible lady who stepped on my toes?” She made a sound of disgust. “I asked her to apologize, but she refused. I don’t know her name. I suppose we did speak, but I would hardly call that a meeting.”

  William remained over her, holding her eyes. Then he slowly backed away and took his seat. “What were you doing at the observatory?”

  Leah pulled in a long breath. “Why were you there? Who is this blackmailer? What is going on?” She was lying again, of course. She knew very well who they were speaking about.

  He lifted his hand to quiet her. “I asked you a question.”

  She looked away. “Like everyone else there, I am a practitioner of science. I enjoy astrology.”

  He grunted as though he didn’t believe her.

  She gave him what she hoped was a look that showed objection. “I do enjoy science, Sir William. As well as philosophy and other pursuits I’m sure you’ve deemed only for men. I am currently the teacher of such subjects here.”

  “Here?” he asked with a lifted brow.

  She nodded and rearranged herself in the chair. Pain shot through her stomach, but she ignored it as best she could. “Yes.” Her voice was barely above a breath. She’d been in this position too long. She needed to lay down. She was struggling to breathe. “I…”

  William stood. “I believe it’s time you went to your room.”

  She could have sighed with relief, knowing this interrogation was over. He helped her up to her feet and she found herself holding onto him more firmly than she’d have liked. But there was no way to stop doing so unless she planned to fall.

  Her hands went around his arm, her fingers barely managing to wrap around half the muscle beneath his coat. “If you would call for Mr. Sudworth, he can—”

  She gasped as she felt herself lifted from the floor. For the second time that day, she was being carried.

  She settled her head on his shoulder and quickly realized her mistake when her lungs became full of the warm intoxicating scent of his cologne. She was driven mad with the need to lean closer and press herself against his neck.

  She straightened as best she could. “There’s no need for this.”

  “You’re hurt.” William was already walking out of the room and lowered himself just enough to open the door before righting them both and walking through.

  She clenched his shoulders at the shout of applause that greeted them on the other side. She turned her head and saw the women of the house lined up on the stairway, cheering them both. She thought to bury herself in his neck again but snapped herself out of it just in time.

  Maura spoke once the noise calmed, a wide smile on her face. “The women wanted to thank you both for defending them this afternoon.”

  William nodded. “There’s no need. It’s what I’m here for.”

  Leah was confused and spoke in his ear. “What do you mean?”

  He turned his head and something warm filled those green eyes. His breath brushed her lips. “Julius and I will be guarding the house for the time being. That means you’ll be seeing quite a bit of me.”

  No!

  He smiled like a cat who’d just found a mouse he wished to play with and then turned to start up the stairs. Each of the women introduced themselves with great smiles and warm welcomes, and Leah was surprised at how friendly they were when it had taken the delivery boy months before he’d earned more than a smile from any of the women. And even then, the delivery boy never ventured farther than the steps of the back door, while William was climbing the stairs and moving into the most secret part of the house. These women had no clue who they were letting in. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
r />   Zed appeared and led the way to Leah’s room.

  William settled her on the bed. “We’ll speak later.”

  “No, we won’t.”

  He stilled over her, and their gazes caught once more. “Yes, we will.”

  “I’ve said all I have to say to you.”

  The kindness that he’d given the other women left him in a blink. “You can’t fight me and win.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” She then sighed and turned away. “I’m tired. Goodbye, Sir William.”

  William remained in her space for another moment and then slowly slid away and left the room.

  Zed closed the door behind them both, but she suspected he would return once there were no eyes to watch him.

  She had to warn him. William was onto Sarah. They had to find her first and soon.

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  CHAPTER EIGHT

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  “Well?” Julius was sitting by the fireplace in the parlor and looked up at William’s entrance.

  Earlier that morning, William had informed Morris, Francis, and Emmett of what he and Frank had discovered in Oxford. Frank had gone to Hugh’s house to tell the others.

  “That woman, whoever she is, was in Oxford just days ago.” William stopped at the sideboard and stared down at the pale ebony liquid in the crystal decanter. Its golden hue was a stark reminder of Leah’s honey golden eyes.

  “How do you know she was there?” Julius asked.

  William decided against the liquor. Now that he had a house full of women to look after, he’d have to remain alert. He turned to Julius, who was sitting on the edge of his chair. This side of the house didn’t get much sunlight. Only the fireplace was lit, and Julius’ eyes, which danced the line between blue and violet, were currently a dark mixture of the two.

 

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