Unforgettable Heroes II Boxed Set

by Elizabeth Bevarly

  ****

  Edmund tipped back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head indolently. How he could be so relaxed considering the tension at the steam works and at the cottage where Ella had taken up residence was something Jim couldn’t fathom.

  Jim checked the yard outside the office window for the third time in their conversation. Images of mangled debris and burned workers remained in his thoughts. Two days passed since the blast with no sign of further trouble, but Jim still felt the strain of responsibility in every fiber. He hoped Edmund, fresh from London, would relieve some of his stress. So far Edmund’s findings only raised more concerns.

  The legs of Edmund’s chair thudded against the floor. “The Admiralty wouldn’t give me much information about our possible saboteur other than to say it might be a member of the aristocracy working with France.” Edmund lost a little of his natural aplomb. “You know who my number one suspect is.”

  “Not hard to figure out. He was in Bath last week.” Jim fiddled with a pile of rivets on the workbench, sorting them into piles by size.

  “You saw Spencer?” Edmund’s casual attitude disappeared. He rose suddenly as tense as Jim.

  “Ella did.”

  Edmund paced around now but more from excess energy than anxiety. “Could it be the personal grudge he bears against you?” He suggested. “Spencer might be causing trouble that has nothing to do with espionage.”

  “It’s possible,” Jim took the opportunity to say what he’d been thinking for weeks, “which is why I shouldn’t have such a prominent role in this project.”

  “Too late to do it any other way.” Edmund smiled, actually smiled, as though enjoying the challenge of the situation.

  “Spencer could destroy my credibility with the Admiralty.” Spencer’s accusations about the strike and the resulting violence could jeopardize the entire project. “And yours along with it.”

  “I’ll risk it. Besides, I don’t think he’d dare approach it that way. He’d expose himself too much if he’s the perpetrator of the sabotage. And I have to think he is. He’s been hanging around us throughout the project. I can’t discount the gun he pulled on you and Ella or his behavior in London.”

  “Either way, we have to get through the next two weeks.” The ship would be done on time, of that Jim was confident, as long as no more major disruptions occurred. Successful completion of the ship was his only objective, he reminded himself. The beautiful woman sleeping in the bedroom across from his was a secondary problem. He’d managed to dodge her for the better part of two days, except when he needed to confer with her about business correspondence or orders. Then, he kept it brief and professional.

  “I’ll stay and give you a break,” Edmund said. “Two sets of eyes are better than one. You’ll remain in charge of the project and I’ll lurk about in the background, watching for trouble. Annabelle will travel to Bath next week and be here for the launch. I guess I can live separately from her for a few days. It’ll be a sacrifice, but if I must.” Edmund’s tone was joking, but Jim knew living without his bride of six months was a sacrifice for Edmund.

  “Edmund, if I have to step down…” Jim returned to his earlier concern.

  “We’ve been through this,” Edmund declared, suddenly more serious, “you’re my partner, not employee. There’s no stepping down.”

  “You can always fire the chief engineer,” Jim argued. “That might satisfy the Admiralty if necessary and you won’t lose the contract.”

  “We won’t be losing anything. I have plans for an entire fleet of naval ships that you need to design and build. Go get some sleep. You look like you’ve kept watch for days on end.”

  Jim shook his head. “Too much to finish.”

  “It’s not that you don’t want to return to your cottage?” Edmund suggested.

  “I grab some sleep on the cot in the backroom when I can.” He gestured to a room no larger than a closet that he’d furnished for his use.

  “Strange for a man with a nice home close by to sleep here. Could it be your house guest?”

  “My uninvited house guest,” Jim corrected. “I suppose being her brother-in-law doesn’t carry enough weight to make her leave.”

  “Sorry. I don’t have that kind of clout.”

  “If Richard hears she’s staying in my house…” He left it dangling. As an older brother himself, he knew exactly what he’d do in Richard’s situation. The only question was what type of weapons they’d use.

  “Richard is too busy doting over Mary and the coming baby. As long as I’m here, he’ll accept that Ella is staying. He really can’t argue about it.”

  “Staying in the same house as me. My house,” Jim stressed. “The man he threatened to steer clear of his sister.”

  “He never said that. He made the repercussions clear. If you can live with those…” Edmund raised his hands in the air.

  “I can’t.” Taking Ella from her world was bad enough. Depriving her of her dowry and fortune unthinkable. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” Taking charge was a way of life for Jim, but this situation stumped him. She countered every one of his moves and, damn, if she wasn’t a better chess player than he.

  “Enjoy having her around. You saw how hard I worked to persuade Annabelle to marry me. I’d have given anything to have her throw herself at me the way Ella does you. Consider yourself fortunate. Consider yourself the luckiest bastard that ever lived.”

  “I can’t accept what she offers. I’ve nothing worthwhile to offer her.”

  “Get the middle-class chip off your shoulder. Are you not a self-made man? Do you not own forty percent interest in this enterprise?” Edmund pointed out the window. “Worthwhile. What a bunch of horseshit.” Edmund’s usual good nature disappeared.

  “I have money, but I can’t auction off my past and purchase a new one.”

  “More horseshit. You did nothing wrong.”

  “I…” Jim wanted to argue, but Edmund stopped him.

  “Don’t think I didn’t investigate what happened at that strike and the aftermath before I linked my name with yours. Your concerns stem from your own paranoia and very little fact.”

  The door of the office swung in. “Ella.” Edmund assumed a smile of greeting.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting.” She approached Edmund to give him a kiss.

  Jim took the moment to adjust to her presence. In her flowing gown, she brightened the tool-strewn room but cast a shadow over his heart. He’d told her to stay away from the works. There were too many things he couldn’t control, and he’d be damned if he’d expose her to more danger than he already had.

  “I heard you arrived,” Ella addressed Edmund. “How long will you stay?”

  “Until the launch. You?”

  “The same, I think,” she answered while looking at Jim. “Or until the paperwork is complete.”

  Or until he could find a way to get rid of her, he added silently.

  “Good. Marvelous as a matter of fact,” Edmund said. “Annabelle will be here before the launch. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

  “How are the wounded men today?” She focused on Jim exclusively now.

  “Better, two more back to work.” Which only left three of the most badly wounded still out.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” She placed her bag on the workbench, scattering his neatly piled rivets. “Now, how might I assist you today? I finished the work you left me last night, but there must be more.”

  “Not here,” he said firmly. “I told you that.”

  “Jim,” she started, her eyes bright and appealing.

  “He’s right,” Edmund interrupted her. “You can’t be here.”

  “But you’ll both be here.” She glanced between Edmund and Jim

  Edmund shook his head at her. “I’ll escort you back to the cottage. I want to settle in.”

  “Send work to me with Sam?” she suggested to Jim as she exited. “We’ll go over it tonight.”

  Another
late night work session might kill him, but he needed her. And she was enjoying that too much.

  Chapter Sixteen

  December 10, 1858

  My plan may be working. Inch by inch I’m wearing down Jim’s resistance, although I only see him for a few hours in the evening. Last night, he almost took my hand as I was going to bed but yanked it back like I might bite him. Still, it’s progress. Edmund, bless him, stays discreetly out of the way, and Aunt Louise decamped to Bath as soon as Edmund settled in.

  My maid arrived, but she and the housekeeper have formed a bond, and I only see her when she’s needed. I’m glad to be alone and independent. I never get bored, since I can pour all my energy into the quantity of work Sam brings me, and look forward to seeing Jim at night. Although I’m afraid he may disappoint me this evening. I waited until eleven with no word from him and came up to record my thoughts.

  Ella shook herself awake as a gust of wind slapped the front of the cottage. She’d fallen asleep over her diary, crinkling the pages and smudging ink. A scraping sound rose above the wind. A sound she recognized as Jim removing the mud from his boots outside the front door. He was finally home. Standing and shaking out the folds of her dressing gown, she paused over her choice of words—home. It was his home, but soon to be hers as well, she determined.

  She waited for the creaking on the stairs, but nothing came. He must still be on the main floor, maybe waiting for her to go over some correspondence. Stretching her stiffened muscles, she glanced at the clock. Past two. Edmund planned to spend the night at the yard so Jim could rest. A rest he hadn’t taken apparently.

  Instead of waiting for him to come up, she opted to check on him despite the lateness of the hour. Her slippers glided noiselessly on the polished wood. A faint light glowed from the fireplace in the drawing room. He must have stoked it before sitting on the sofa, his head resting in his hands. A tiny sound when she crossed the threshold to the room made him jerk up.

  Standing rapidly, he swayed like a drunken man. Exhaustion, not drink, caused the motion, she decided when she saw his careworn face and disheveled clothing. With his coat and cravat gone, the linen of his shirt gaped open at the neck. He’d removed his boots at the door as he often did so as not to awaken anyone.

  His eyes widened when he focused on her face and dropped down to take in her apparel. The pale pink dressing gown, made of layers of gossamer fabric, rose high to her chin. Yet, his eyes flowed over her, absorbing every detail.

  “Go back to bed,” he said, his voice raspy.

  She crossed the room, taking up a position in front of him. At closer range, the lines in his face contradicted the fire that burned steadily in his blue eyes. He might appear tired, but a level of energy continued to hum under the surface. “Is something wrong? It’s so late.”

  “Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Tell me.” The fire in his eyes flared at her command, but with what she couldn’t say.

  He settled back onto the sofa, surprising her by taking her hand and pulling her along with him. Even sitting, he didn’t relinquish her fingers. “There was a fight,” he finally said, “between some of my better men and a group of thugs. My men were jumped coming back from the inn.”

  “In that alley you warned me about?” A shortcut ran from the steam works to the inn and the main road beyond. Both Edmund and Jim impressed on her never to take it. It passed by abandoned buildings and through areas known for crime.

  “Yes. I have to think it was intentional based on what’s happened lately.”

  “Were your men hurt?”

  “Nothing serious, but it’s one more thing in a long list of bizarre incidents.”

  “What else?” She half-turned into him where she could see his profile as he stared at the hearth.

  “Another fire at shift change tonight. Might have been accidental.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  “No, I think the sabotage is escalating and…”

  “Something catastrophic might happen.”

  “I’ve seen this sort of behavior before.”

  “When?”

  He hesitated, gently rubbing her hand between both of his. She waited, saying nothing, recognizing that he was revealing something he’d carefully hidden from her.

  “In a place I worked at in London a few years ago,” he finally answered, although reluctance hung on the words.

  Not what she’d expected. She knew about the fire at his family’s inn, but this was something else. Was it connected? “Just five more days until the launch,” she reminded him, trying to take his mind off his problems. After the launch, she’d push for a discussion about their relationship. He’d carefully avoided anything intimate since the day of the explosion. After days of working with him, watching him worry, she wanted to smooth away the lines of stress, find the smiles he was capable of.

  “Five days,” he repeated, turning his head to face her. His expression defied comprehension. Was he also thinking about the other conversation at the end of those days?

  A flicker in his eyes as they searched hers made her think it possible. Disentangling her hand, she feathered her fingers over his forehead, applying light pressure to remove the wrinkles. He closed his eyes, letting her continue until he moaned and reached for her. She went willingly into his arms, adjusting her body to his and linking her arms behind his neck.

  “I’ve wanted to do this for days,” he said, sending a quiver through her as he stroked her back, every touch warm through the thin fabric of her dressing gown. “I’ve wanted you.”

  “You have?” She leaned closer, letting herself rest against the firm muscles of his chest.

  His lips closed over hers and the question became pointless. All of his desire was packaged in his kiss and the roam of his hands on her body. He deepened the kiss with a slide of tongue against her lips until she willingly opened for him. If there was a question, she no longer needed an answer. She needed him to satisfy the new sensation in her body. She pressed into him, letting her hands roam inside the open collar of his shirt and find the corded muscle of his neck, hot and strong like his kisses.

  “Not here,” he murmured, breaking the kiss, but keeping his hold on her. As if she weighed nothing, he stood up, lifting her in his arms.

  She almost asked, “What not here?” but he was already carrying her toward the staircase. She understood and nearly shouted with excitement. He was going to make her his, to claim her. And she wanted to be claimed. She nipped at his ear as he cleared the last step. Claimed, not conquered.

  When he hesitated on the landing between their doors, she whispered, “mine.” She could have simply meant which room, but she didn’t. He was as much hers as she was his. However he took her meaning, he pushed open the door to her room.

  The oil lamp still burned on her desk where her open diary lay. Someday she’d let him read what she’d written about him. Not tonight. Tonight words didn’t matter.

  The light cast shadows in the room, stretching out forms. The shadows, ever-present on Jim’s face in the past weeks, disappeared when he found the sash on her dressing gown and tugged it loose. Gently settling her on her feet, he helped her slip out of the gown. She wanted to cling to him, but he stepped back, scanning her figure through the nearly transparent cotton of her nightgown. And he smiled. Not the tight, tolerant smile he’d used recently, but a smile of pure pleasure lit his face.

  With a soft laugh, she returned to the circle of his arms, pressing herself against him. Through the thin material, her body fit to his and she gave thanks for illicit books found in her youth. His hardness rubbed against her stomach and she angled more tightly into him until he groaned. When he gathered the fabric of her gown and lifted it over her head, she expected a chill, but the heat generated by their contact prevented any coolness from reaching her body despite the night air. He cupped her breasts with his large hands, and she felt a twinge of nerves, wanting to apologize for their smallne
ss.

  “Perfect,” he whispered, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples. And she felt perfect, nerves disappeared and all she felt was desire and happiness.

  Wanting to touch his skin, she unbuttoned his shirt, laughing again when she tried to remove it only to have it caught by the buttons on the cuffs. Together, they undid the tiny buttons, letting the shirt drop to the floor. His chest muscles tightened under her fingertips.

  She’d spent what added up to days thinking about his naked shoulders and chest. She decided her imagination wasn’t as good as she thought it was. The chiseled detail, firm skin lightly coated with blond hairs, narrowed to the tight muscles of his stomach before disappearing into his trousers. Her finger followed the line of hair down to his waistband, earning another groan.

  “Get in the bed,” he said when her hand feathered over the hard length still concealed by his clothing.

  “But…” She looked at his expression, now serious, but not in a way she’d ever seen before.

  “Bed,” he ordered this time, giving her a light pat on the backside to get her moving.

  She flipped back the covers and had just settled in amongst the pillows when he was with her, sliding his naked body against hers. Together, they warmed the cool sheets instantly. He kissed her long and deep while exploring her body with his hands. She touched him, but not the way he did her. His touch was intentional, intoxicating, as he paused to arouse her by stroking her breasts before reaching lower to where her thighs pressed together.

  She gasped, breaking the kiss when he parted her legs to touch her. She burned for him there, and he knew it as his finger slid through the wetness and she panted at the sensation that quivered low in her belly. Returning to the kiss, he continued stroking her until an overwhelming, spiraling sense overtook her, shaking her entire body. She dropped back against the pillow, eyes closed, to catch her breath.