Sapphires Are an Earl's Best Friend

by Shana Galen

  That was when Sinclair had found her. She’d stumbled into a dark corner in an alley, not really looking where she was going. She was burning with fever by then and so weak she could not think. She’d known she was ill, that she needed proper food and sleep, but she could hardly afford the most meager provisions. She’d lain down on the cold pavement and closed her eyes. She would probably have died there if the earl’s coachman hadn’t seen her and tried to shoo her away. The earl had returned as she struggled to her feet, the coachman urging her to move along.

  But instead of turning away from her, the earl had lent an arm for support and given her his handkerchief to wipe away the blood on her lip.

  She’d stared at him, not understanding. “What do you want?” she asked.

  “Nothing a’tall, my dear,” the tall, slim, white-haired man had said in his deep, gentle voice. “Allow me to show you this kindness. I assure you, you will owe me nothing in return.”

  “Ha!” She’d laughed in his face and pressed the handkerchief back into his hand. She would not soil the fine linen with her stink. “I am not that naïve.” Not anymore.

  “Madam, I assure you I speak the truth.”

  She narrowed her eyes. No one had ever called her madam.

  “His lordship speaks the truth,” the coachman volunteered. “You can trust him.”

  Lily had looked from the coachman to the gentleman, took a deep breath, and nodded. She’d pressed the clean, fresh-smelling linen to her mouth and accepted the coachman’s hand as she climbed into the carriage. When she saw the velvet squabs inside, she said, “I should ride outside with the coachman. I’ll spoil your seats.”

  “I’ll not hear of it,” the man said. “You are cold, and you will come inside. I have a blanket and a warm brick for your feet. I could care less about a little dirt.”

  She was so unused to kindness of any sort at that point that all she could do was gape at him. Finally, she’d climbed inside and sank into the seats. She was asleep within moments, letting her guard down, which was not like her. The earl had shaken her gently awake when they’d arrived at his Mayfair residence, and she’d stumbled inside, stumbled to another life.

  She looked at Darlington now. “The countess did not so much as blink at me.”

  “She must be a kind woman, despite all appearances to the contrary.”

  Lily laughed. “She does have a way of making sure her wishes are followed. God knows I never had a chance. She marshaled Fallon, Juliette, and me into ladies, though it must have been a trial. Fallon, in particular, had no idea how to behave. I at least knew the basics.”

  “You were born to be a lady,” Darlington said, his hand touching her hair. “Even now, soaking wet and covered with dirt, you look every bit the part.”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “They do not call you ‘the Darling of the Ton’ for nothing.”

  “Actually, no one calls me that anymore. Not since I called all my former friends empty-headed fops and publicly accused my father of lechery. And, of course, I insulted the ton’s favorite Fashionable Impure.”

  “Juliette?”

  He tapped her nose. “You.”

  She did not know what to think of this new interest in her. She had wanted his attention for so long that she could scarce believe she actually had it now. And what would she do with it? After what she’d been through, could she go to bed with a man and not remember that horrible violation years ago?

  He stood and offered his hand. “We should return. The rain has slackened enough that the water in the stream should have returned to its previous levels.”

  She took his hand and stood, suddenly eager to return to Ravenscroft Castle. Now that she had Darlington’s support, she would have more access to the duke’s private rooms. That should make the search faster. All she needed was proof Ravenscroft was involved in the scheme against the Diamonds in the Rough, and the Crown could take action.

  They started back toward the stream, she holding his hand in a comfortable intimacy. How strange that this contact should feel so natural when, in the past, she had lived for weeks on one smile directed at her or one brush against his arm. Darlington moved aside a low-hanging branch so they might pass without having to duck. Standing on the other side was a smiling Lucifer.

  ***

  From Lily’s gasp, Andrew surmised the man standing before them was not there to wish them well. A closer look revealed him to resemble the description she’d given of Lucifer. “Lord Darlington,” the man said with a smooth, deep voice. There was something ominous about his tone. “And the Countess of Charm.” He gave Lily a nod. “I wondered why you were here, but your little conversation with the earl was enlightening.”

  He felt her hand tighten in his. If this Lucifer had overheard their conversation, he knew everything.

  “I should have taken the opportunity to kill you when I first saw you arrive. I knew leaving you alive was a mistake.” He lifted a pistol. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  Everything happened in a blur. Lily pulled her hand out of Andrew’s and shoved him aside. Andrew protested, but his words were swallowed by the sound of the ball exploding from the pistol. He fell to the ground, realizing Lily had pushed him to safety. She’d pushed him out of the way, leaving herself in the path of danger. He rolled down an incline before he could catch himself and jump to his feet again. By then, Lily was wrestling with the man, her hands around his wrist, keeping the pistol pointed toward the sky.

  He scrambled up the slick, leafy ground, wondering what the hell the woman thought she was doing. As he watched, she kicked Lucifer deftly between the legs, and when he doubled over, she yanked the pistol from his hand and smashed it over his head. Lucifer staggered back and down even as Andrew reached Lily.

  She grabbed his hand, still holding Lucifer’s pistol in the other. “Let’s go!”

  Andrew could see Lucifer was still conscious and struggling to his feet. He was going to want retribution. Still, if she had not been there, he would have stood his ground.

  How had she learned to fight like that? Andrew didn’t think he could have managed it any better. If he’d had any doubts as to what she was before, he did not doubt it now. He followed her back toward the stream, eventually passing her and clearing the way for the two of them. He didn’t hear any signs of pursuit, but Lucifer would come after them, given half an opportunity.

  When they reached the stream, he was dismayed by how high the water remained. It would still be a struggle to cross it and reach the waiting horses. But Lily, God love her, didn’t even flinch. She threw off her boots and tied up the long skirts of her habit. Andrew removed his boots as well, knowing they would only weigh him down. He tossed his and hers to the other side of the stream, but his aim failed on the last of her boots, and the water caught it, causing it to rush away with the fast-moving current. He gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry.”

  “It’s not important,” she said, and stepped into the water. Her face betrayed nothing but determination as she started across, fighting the strong current. He stepped in behind her and gasped at the freezing water. He wanted to whimper, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on. He kept his gaze on Lily, determined to catch her if the stream should snatch her away. A rock landed beside his right shoulder, and he turned to see Lucifer standing behind them. The man was not fool enough to wade into the waist-high water, but he was lifting stones and hurling them into the stream. His next volley was more accurate, and Andrew cursed the blow to his back.

  “Here.” Lily thrust the pistol into Darlington’s hand. “Throw this. Do not miss.”

  Andrew turned and ducked another incoming stone. Then he braced himself against the current and took aim with the pistol. Lucifer raised another rock, quite a large one, and Andrew hoped his weapon hit first. He launched the pistol and watched as it arced over the water. Lucifer deftly sidestepped it and threw his rock. His
aim was slightly off, or Andrew’s head would have been flattened. As it was, his shoulder exploded with pain.

  He felt Lily’s arms around him, pulling him toward the stream’s bank even as he wanted to sink down and recover. But she dragged him across, fighting the undercurrent and his weight, until they finally reached the shallower waters. A stone missed him and hit her upper arm, but she just hissed in a breath and pulled him up beside her. Lucifer pitched another rock, and his aim was good—much better than Andrew’s had been. But the distance was greater now. Still, Andrew did not relish waiting for the moment when Lucifer’s aim improved, and he forced himself to his feet, and with Lily hobbling barefoot at his side, ran for the horses.

  They danced and whinnied, obviously glad to see their humans after having been left in the cold and the rain for so long. Andrew took a moment to soothe his mount and then Lily’s. “A dry stable and an extra ration of oats await you,” he promised. The trees offered them some protection, but Andrew did not intend to wait around for Lucifer to find a way to reach them. He helped Lily mount and then climbed into his own saddle.

  By the time they reached the stable, he was shivering so badly he could hardly hold onto the reins. Lily looked as though she fared little better. He gave his reins to a groom, jumped down, and caught her as she slid off her horse. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

  “You’re not fine. I’m taking you inside.”

  “There’s no need to carry me.” Even as she spoke the words, she turned her head into his coat, and he felt her body relax. She was exhausted and on the verge of collapse. He carried her across the lawns until he reached the doors of Ravenscroft Castle. The butler must have seen them coming, because he had the door open before they reached the steps. “My lord!”

  Andrew shook his head, not wanting the man’s sympathy at the moment. “Where is my father?”

  “Dining with his guests. It is past the dinner hour.”

  Andrew ignored the censure in the man’s voice. “Find Miss Dawson’s maid and order her to tend to her mistress. Have footmen bring hot water and a tub to her room.”

  The butler frowned. “The footmen are serving at His Grace’s table, and Cook is preparing the last courses.”

  “Then heat it and bring it yourself. If you need my help to carry it, I am at your service.”

  “My lord!” the butler said, shock in his voice. But Andrew ignored him, starting for the stairs and Lily’s room. She was pale and cold, and if he didn’t warm her soon, she would catch her death. His own weariness pressed upon him like a boulder by the time he reached her room. Though she was light, he was out of breath. He nudged the door open with his foot and carried her inside, laying her on the chaise longue instead of the bed so her wet garments would not dampen the sheets and coverlet. He grabbed the poker and stoked the fire in the hearth, taking an extra moment to warm his numb fingers, and then turned back to her. She stirred, opening her eyes.

  “Did I fall asleep? Is Lucifer—?”

  “We’re back at the house, and we are safe.” For now. “I’ve had the butler fetch your maid, but we must change you out of these wet things.”

  “I can do it.” She struggled to her feet and pulled ineffectively at her fastenings, which were all in back. Of course, she could not reach them. Andrew turned her and began loosening the garment.

  “My lord, you shouldn’t—”

  “This is no time for propriety, and you are a courtesan, for God’s sake. I won’t ruin your reputation.”

  “Yes, my lord, but your father would not like this.”

  “He can go to hell, and stop calling me my lord.” He pulled the riding habit down over her shoulders, freeing her arms, and pushing the heavy material to the floor in a damp puddle. “If I am going to help you in this endeavor—and I am already in too deep, so do not argue—then you will at least have the common courtesy to call me Andrew.”

  “Is that common courtesy? And here I thought titles were all the crack.” She sounded bemused, but he ignored it because she was also shivering. His cold fingers made untying her petticoats difficult, but he persisted, wondering, not for the first time, why women wore so many undergarments. Despite the gloom and chill in the air today, it was summer. Finally, she stood in her shift and stockings, which when he bent to remove them, he saw were ruined beyond repair.

  “I can do the rest,” she said.

  He lifted the hem of her shift, looking for the fastening of her garter. “I’m almost finished. I—” He touched the bare flesh of her thigh, and she gasped. He realized his fingers were colder than her skin here. He also realized she was virtually nude before him, the wet shift concealing nothing, and he had his hand on her naked thigh.

  He looked up at her, trying very hard not to allow his gaze to linger on the damp material clinging to her breasts, the dark aureoles of which were clearly visible. He rose, slowly, allowing her hem to drop, though he would have rather dragged the garment over her head. “I badly want to kiss you right now,” he said, standing so close their bodies almost touched.

  “I don’t think that would be a wise idea.” Her voice was breathless, her eyes large and dark.

  “No one has ever accused me of possessing wisdom. Allow me to kiss you. Please.” He felt a fool for begging, but he wanted her permission. He’d taken too much from her in the past, this woman who’d had so few choices of her own. He wanted her to choose him. He wanted her to come to him. He could make her forget the past. He knew he could. But it would have to be her decision and on her terms.

  “Please?” She reached out and touched his face, her fingertips light and tender. “How silly that word sounds on your lips.”

  “Then do not make me beg.”

  “Andrew…”

  His name on her tongue all but undid him. He stopped himself from wrapping his arms about her only by grasping her wrist and pulling it to his mouth. He kissed it gently, darting his tongue out to taste her skin; then with his gaze fastened on her face, he trailed his lips to her palm, opening her fingers and teasing the inside of her hand with his teeth and tongue. She stared at him, her face flushed and her breath rapid, and he stared back, wondering what she would say, what she would do. Praying she would allow him to kiss her, hold her, love her.

  “Ahem.”

  Andrew spun around and saw Lily’s maid in the doorway. She was looking at the floor, pretending she did not see what was happening.

  “Anna!” Lily stepped away from him as though she were an errant child, not a notorious courtesan. “Do come in.”

  “Yes, madam. The servants are bringing a tub and water. Shall I find your robe?”

  “Please.”

  Andrew backed away, feeling the dampness of his own garments now. “I will leave you to your ablutions.”

  Her gaze met his, and there was something in her eyes he didn’t recognize. “An—my lord, perhaps we could speak later?”

  He nodded. “I am at your disposal.”

  He stepped out as the hip bath was brought in, and made his way to the other wing of the house and his own rooms. This time he would wait for her to come to him.

  He was still thinking of her, his mind back in her chambers, when another form stepped before him. “There you are.”

  Sixteen

  “Emma?” Andrew frowned. “Is anything the matter?”

  “No, but…” She wore a robe and a cap on her hair and looked as though she were ready for bed. “Would you come into my room for a moment? I want to say good-bye.”

  He searched his memory for details. She was leaving early in the morning for his sister Katherine’s home, where she would stay for the remainder of the summer. His sister lived a relatively easy distance, and Andrew had sent a runner to her house with a letter explaining the situation. Katherine had agreed to take Emma in once she understood Andrew wanted their young sibling safely
away from the Kwirleys of his father’s acquaintance.

  He stepped into her room, spotting several trunks and valises stacked to one side. Her governess was closing one of the trunks, but she nodded at him and wordlessly stepped into the dressing room to give them privacy.

  “I did not know if I would see you in the morning,” she said. “I leave quite early.”

  “I am glad you found me.”

  “You were gone most of the day. I would hug you, but…” She gestured to his damp, soiled clothing.

  He smiled. “I was caught in the rain.” As he spoke, he glanced about her room. He could not remember the last time he had been inside, but he thought it had changed very little. It was still the room of a child, adorned with ribbons and lace. Dolls and porcelain figures were scattered among books and texts. He looked at her again, suddenly feeling a pang of loss. “I will miss you.”

  Her brows rose. “Will you?”

  “Of course. I only want you to be safe.”

  “I know.”

  “It is not safe for you here. His Grace is too busy with his fun to realize that.”

  “He never paid much attention to me, in any case. You were his heir. The rest of us were incidental.”

  Andrew stared at her. Was that how she had felt? Was that how Katherine felt? On impulse, he reached out and hugged Emma hard. He should have been a better friend. He should have been a better brother. He would make it up to her.

  “Andrew?” she asked, her voice muffled against his coat. “Will I really be coming back?”

  “Of course. This is temporary.”

  “How long will I stay with Katherine?”