Foster moved from the window to the child’s side, as if to protect him.
“Thank you...” she began.
“There’s more! The tramp was angry. He said something else, something awful.” Now fear took predominance. “In a scary voice, he said he had to admire a man who risked death...’ there was more, but all I can remember is that he ended with ‘for a woman, no less.’”
The boy screwed up his face. “Then the scariest part of all. He said, ‘And when the Vanisher kills them, we’ll lay the two of them out in the same grave.” The child shivered and Foster lay his hand on the boy’s shoulder to offer him comfort and support. He looked up at the old man and continued, “Like bloody Romeo and Juliet! How romantic!’ But I don’t think he truly meant that in a good way, ma’am. He sounded evil when he said it.”
Oh my god. She was doomed!
She forced herself to smile, wanting to reassure the child. “Very good, Joseph! How clever of you to remember all that! Thank you for being so attentive. Now, go see if Mrs. P has a sticky bun for you. Tell her I said you deserve a reward for being such a big help.”
He gave her a grateful, sunshine smile then said in a solemn voice, “I’ll be sure to keep the back door locked, I promise.”
“I’m sure you will, Joseph, I have confidence in you.”
He walked quietly from the room and she worried this may have dampened his exuberance. She was relieved when she heard him give a happy shout before he clattered down the back stairs. The thought of a treat would go a long way toward easing any remaining fear.
“Just as I expected. You and yon…” At her frown, he clamped his mouth shut. “...and Mr. Leighton there must be their ‘too serious and too dangerous’ business.”
“But why?” They must have her confused with someone else. She’d done nothing to make her the target of a killer. She rubbed her temple to ease the sudden stabbing pain there. And now she had to go explain this to Reed. He was waiting for her, no doubt impatiently, so she dare not tarry.
“We’ve wasted enough time this morning, don’t you think?” She cocked her head in the direction of Reed’s room and tapped her ear.
“Yes, Miss.” Foster was quick to catch on. He understood she didn’t want ‘yon Gordon’ to overhear their conversation. “I’ll go make sure Joseph is getting his work done now that the excitement is over.”
Were those men talking about Reed? What business had he failed to attend to? Murdering her? Was that his mission, locked away in his forgotten memory?
* * *
“What’s wrong with your butler?” Reed stood from his seat on the edge of his bed when his wife entered his room.
He watched her carefully. She was upset. Had she’d been afraid Foster would, in fact, shoot him? He gestured for her to sit down and, once she had, sat on the edge of his bed again.
“Nothing,” she said. But it was clear she was troubled.
“If he’s aiming a gun at me, there is.” Blunderbusses, especially the one the elderly servant had been carrying, were almost antique now. He wasn’t sure how reliable they were. He hadn’t dared push it away for fear of it going off.
“Was he the one who hit me over the head that first night?” Noting her startled reaction to his forceful query, he softened his tone. “Is he the reason I have no memory?”
She looked stunned. “No, of course not!”
“I don’t see any ‘Of course not’ here.” Not after the old buzzard pointed that huge weapon at him. Reed was annoyed and not feeling very charitable toward the man.
“Foster blusters a lot, but he’d never shoot you.” She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself.
“Besides, he was aslee–… um… wasn’t there when you got injured.”
She sounded positive about that. So if not the butler, who? And why was she so upset now? She lifted her hand to brush back a lock of hair and he saw her hand was shaking. What was going on here?
“Tell me how it happened.”
“How what happened?”
He gave her an exasperated look. “Me getting hit on the head so hard I’ve lost my memory?”
She paused and he was suddenly sure she was going to lie to him. She must not be used to lying, if he could tell before she even opened up her mouth.
Was she trying to protect her retainer?
No, she’d sounded too definite when she told him the servant wasn’t there. Then who?
“I don’t know.”
He hadn’t asked that out loud had he? No… Oh, she was answering his first question about how it happened.
“Why not?”
“You were in here by yourself. You tripped and knocked your head on the big dresser over there.” She pointed to a huge, mahogany highboy. “At first, we didn’t know that. You were unconscious, and we didn’t know why. We only found the bump on your head later.”
It didn’t sound like him, but then how would he know? He could be the world’s biggest, clumsiest, hulking clod and he wouldn’t even know it.
Damnation! He hated this not knowing.
“But why was I in this bedroom rather than in ours? I assumed you put me here because I was sick.”
“We...um...don’t share a bedroom.” Her voice sounded timid.
“Don’t share a bedroom? But we’re...” He heard the suspicion in his own voice. He was practically calling her a liar. Yet why wouldn’t they have separate bedrooms? It was more common than sharing one, among his circle.
Among his circle! A memory! What was his circle? He tried to continue his earlier thought, but already it had slipped away. He’d work on trying to remember it later, right now he wanted to further other paths. “We’ll have to rectify that once I am well again.”
He watched her reaction to his words carefully. Was that… Why, that was fear in her eyes… followed by a flush so rosy, he knew she must feel it burning her face.
Without acknowledging his intentions, she lifted the cover from the bottom of the bed, waiting for him to lie down, preparing to lay it over him.
Did he really want to sleep some more? He had no time to ponder it before she gently began to cajole him.
“Now, don’t you think it’s time to take a little rest after all that excitement? I know it’s exhausted me.”
“Then why don’t you lie down here beside me and we can snooze together. That’s why I was in your room, you know. I hoped to convince you to have an afternoon nap with me.” Two could play at this. He gave her his best coaxing smile.
He watched her eyes go wide. She seemed shocked that her husband wanted her to lie down beside him. What a strange marriage they must have!
“Not this time. The physician said you needed rest and you won’t get it if you’re not alone.”
Ah, so that was it. Realization demystified the bafflement he was feeling about his marriage. The problem was she knew him too well. Sleep was the last thing he’d have on his mind. Just contemplating her lying beside him had him eager and alert.
Tally leaned down to arrange his pillow. Her glance collided with his scorching stare. She tried to avert hers, but he was exerting some powerful force that wouldn’t let her glance away.
Mesmerized, she didn’t resist when his hand reached up to gently grasp her neck and draw her down closer for him to drop a little angel kiss on her nose. But it didn’t end there. He trailed his lips along her cheek to place a soft kiss on her ear.
She breathed in noisily. Heavens! What was he doing?
He blew softly into the opening.
A moan escaped from between her pursed lips. She wasn’t sure if her shaking legs would hold her up for much longer.
He pulled harder and she ended up lying fully on top of him. She scrambled to get off, but he held her there, saying, “No. Don’t move. Feels good. Just lie with me for a few minutes.” He raised his head to look into her eyes and added, with a wicked twinkle, “You never know, it might help me get my memory back.”
Did he think his kisses would distra
ct her so much she’d believe such drivel? As if lying on top of him or kissing could help him recover his lost memories! In any case, she didn’t think it was wise to be this close to him should he suddenly recover that conveniently lost memory.
“At the very least, we’ll make new ones,” he murmured softly in her ear.
That’s what she was afraid of. Would the new memories bury the old ones? She didn’t want to be responsible for ruining his chances of getting his life back. But more importantly, should those new memories spark a return of his old ones, might they not remind him that he’d meant to kill her?
One of his hands was at the back of her head now, holding it steady allowing him to anoint her lips with another devastatingly thorough kiss.
She had to stop this now. While she was still able! His attentions were becoming more and more difficult to deny. Her hands, palms flat, were against his chest. She stiffened them and pushed herself up and twisted free of his hold.
He winced.
His wound! She might cause the stitches to break.
She sat up, her feet over the side of the bed, and told herself to think of the consequences — both the physical and the mental.
Focus on him wanting to kill you, Tally. That should cool your ardor.
He looked at her, silently questioning why she’d want to stop. Fighting her inclinations was not easy, but she shook her head and said, “The doctor said no excitement.” Her legs felt too weak to hold her so she remained seated. “You should close your eyes and get some rest now. I’ll be in to wake you for supper.”
“But I want the excitement. I’m sick to death of not knowing who I am. Perhaps if I… we... get back to normal, my mind will heal faster.” His arm snagged her waist and pulled her body back against his. His mouth was level with her chest and she was stunned into shocked silence when he covered one of her breasts, clothes and all, with his mouth.
Lord above heaven! Her hands came up instinctively to his head. She was certain she had meant to pull him away, but her own body betrayed her and she clasped him snugly to her chest, instead. His hot, humid mouth wet the light muslin fabric of her dress all the way through to her chemise. Thank goodness she wasn’t wearing a corset. To save her life, she couldn’t have stopped herself from turning into his embrace and wrapping both arms around him. His mouth moved to her other breast, only this time he undid the buttons of her dress and pulled down the top of her chemise to suckle her bare skin.
Gasping and groaning at every lap of his tongue on her sensitive breasts, her hands threaded through his thick, dark curls, tensing on his skull when he nibbled gently on her erect nipple. Tremors quaked through her turning her into a quivering mass of nerve ends. Nothing penetrated her single-minded concentration on his touch. She was lost to everything. All she wanted, needed, was to be part of him.
He caressed down the side of her body over her hip, sliding her skirts up with a warm hand gliding up her thigh. Her breath snagged. This was a new, totally foreign experience. Where was his hand going? The answer came swiftly. His fingers edged under her chemise to seek flesh that, hitherto, had never been touched by any one but herself.
A loud noise began downstairs, penetrating Reed’s concentration on pleasuring his wife. He hesitated. The noise had transformed into feet stomping, slowly making their way toward the stairway.
“Not again!” He groaned.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
Her confused question had him leaning closer, more intent on bringing joy to her before their idyll was once again interrupted.
But it was too late. With that slight pause, he’d ruined it for both of them.
Her eyes blinked several times, then widened in realization of where they were and what they were doing.
“Damn it to hell!” he muttered. “That old codger must have some way of knowing what’s going on in this room.”
He saw her sudden understanding of what he was talking about and tried in vain to prevent her from scrambling out of his arms. He reached for her but she was on her feet and retreating rapidly from the bed, hastily buttoning her dress and straightening her clothes.
“How?” he demanded.
“How what?”
“How does he know every time we so much as make eyes at each other? There must be a peep hole into this room!”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “He’s coming up from downstairs. Do you think he’s perched on a ladder looking through a hole in the floor?”
Put like that, it did sound rather ridiculous. “Maybe he has Joseph as his lookout and, once alerted, up he marches.”
She gave him an are-you-serious look. “It’s more likely that he notices it’s too quiet up here and we’re in this room together.”
He saw her realize what she’d said and knew she was wishing she could take it back. Too late, my dear wife, he thought. “Why would that bother him? We’re married, after all. Isn’t that what married couples do?”
An embarrassed flush flooded her face. She stammered and looked ready to abandon the effort of replying, when a relieved gleam crept into her gaze. “He knows the doctor said you were to get lots of rest and no excitement,” she blurted.
Ah… that he could accept. “Well I can’t deny that being with you like this is very exciting.” He waggled his eyebrows and gave her his best wicked grin. No sooner had he said that, when his bravado collapsed like a balloon losing air. “Perhaps he’s right. For now!” he hastened to add. “I feel like I’ve been run over by the Royal Mail coach! You pack a powerful wallop, my dear.”
“I… I…”
He had to laugh at her mortified look. His laugh faded when she averted her face and almost ran from the room. “Hey! Don’t go!”
But if she heard him, she didn’t listen.
“So much for my lady-luring skills!” he grumbled aloud.
Chapter Seven
“Finally, a note!” Tally retrieved a slip of paper from the space between Monsieur’s studio door and the door jam. “What an odd way to leave a message. I’d have posted it on the door, for all to see.”
“Mebbe that’s just what they don’t want.”
Trust Foster to see the suspicious side of things.
“Quick, we mustn’t linger.” She urged him to hurry back to the carriage. “We don’t want any more strange occurrences.” They got back into the waiting hackney and soon were headed home. “This must mean Monsieur knows I’ve been looking for him. Right?”
“Humph!” Foster gave her, what Great Aunt Ida would have called, ‘his speaking look’. He’d been dead set against her coming back here again this morning, after their close call several days ago. But she wouldn’t hear of him coming alone. So they took precautions, leaving by the back door, going at a different time than was their habit, and they’d brought along her pistols.
“Here, I’ll sit beside you so we can read it together.” She moved across the carriage to sit beside her faithful retainer and unfolded the note they’d found at the door. “Maybe I should have read it and left it there for others. Oh no! I’m so selfish! I thought only of myself!”
“Don’t fret. I’ll send Joseph to return the note.”
“Will it be safe for him to do that, do you think?”
He looked at her in exasperation. “Why would they harm a child?”
“You’d think so, but then why hurt me?” There was no reply to that but she didn’t want to worry him more than he already was, so she said, “I’m sure he’ll be all right.” She smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “I can always count on you to come up with a solution.” She finished unfolding the note. “That’s curious. It’s not in Monsieur’s handwriting.” She started to read it aloud to him. She wasn’t sure how good his eyesight was anymore.
‘Attention: Monsieur Antoine Moreau will be away for an indefinite amount of time due to–’ a loud crash halted her in mid-sentence. She instinctively ducked and threw herself across Foster to shield him.
“Get off me!” He
pushed her up, but she was already sitting up and had her pocket pistol out ready to shoot any body breaking into the hackney that was, even now, jerking to an abrupt stop.
They heard the driver yell, “Catch that man!”
A commotion was buzzing outside.
The carriage creaked and swayed as the driver climbed down. He called out, “You there, lad, I’ll give you this coin if you hold the horses steady.” Next thing, he was opening the carriage door.
“You folks awright?” He backed off rapidly at the sight of her pistol aimed at him.
“I beg your pardon.” Tally swiftly lowered it and slipped it back into her pocket.
Keeping a wary eye on her, he leaned inside to look around.
She looked at the broken glass strewn across the floor of the vehicle. “What happened?” Spotting a large lumpy object, she bent down and picked it up.
“Look at the size of this rock!” She raised it up to show them. “Someone threw this in the window?”
“Devil’s spawn!” The driver cursed. “That’s never happened before in all my years of driving, I can promise you that.”
Foster crouched down by the broken window to look out. “Must have thrown it, and then run off. Coward!”
The driver nodded in agreement. “If you folks are fine, I’ll get back to driving you to where you want to go. I’m gonna have to bring her in to have that quarter light fixed.” He backed out and they heard him speaking to the crowd that had gathered. “Did any of you catch that ruffian?”
The negative chorus was disappointing.
“You can all move along now. No one’s hurt.”
The vehicle rocked as he climbed back up to settle onto his bench. Then came “Hyah!” followed by a clucking sound to spur the horses to move and the carriage began to roll slowly onward.
“Why?” If she had been inclined to take Foster’s warnings lightly in the beginning, she was now fully in agreement. Someone was indeed out to get her. Had she not moved, the rock would have hit her square on the head. Maybe killed her.
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