In the shadows, his countenance appeared strangely harsh. “Are you well?”
“I am not yet certain,” she murmured.
His arm abruptly tightened about her. “God, I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you.”
“Frighten me?” Bianca frowned in bewilderment. “I was not frightened. How could I be? That was the most thrilling thing I have ever experienced.”
His features slowly softened, but a darkness lingered in the hazel eyes.
“I very much wished to please you, my love, but I should never have allowed matters to go so far.” He heaved an unsteady sigh. “Perhaps the gossips are right. I am not at all suitable to be among proper society. Most certainly I am not suitable to be in the company of proper young innocents.”
Bianca’s frown deepened. She could not believe he would regret the moments they had just spent in each other’s arms. Not when she had felt him tremble with the same aching passion that had…
Realization hit with the force of a bucket of cold water. It was not regret. It was guilt.
Pushing herself from his arms, Bianca glared into the handsome countenance.
“You are not suitable because you did not recall to treat me as if I am a witless idiot with no notion of how to use the lump in my head some call a brain?” she gritted. “God knows I cannot possibly know if I desire a gentleman’s kisses or not.”
“It is not that.”
“Then what is it?”
He grimaced. “It is a gentleman’s duty to protect a lady, not take advantage of her.”
She met his male logic with a snort of disgust. It was just so predictable.
“Stop that at once.”
He gave a lift of his brows. “I beg your pardon?”
“You did not force yourself upon me.”
“Still…”
“No.” She poked her finger into his wide chest. “What I do, the decisions I make, are mine, not yours. I will not have you taking that away from me.”
He paused a long moment, considering her stark demand with his usual care. Unlike most men, Edward did not simply dismiss her as a frivolous creature without the ability to possess her own thoughts.
It was what she liked best about him.
Well, perhaps not best, she acknowledged with a blush.
“You are quite right, Lady Bianca.” A grudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And now that I consider the matter, I am not at all sure that I was not the one to be seduced. Perhaps I should be demanding satisfaction.”
Her annoyance faded beneath his teasing, and she offered him a flutter of her lashes.
“What sort of satisfaction were you considering?”
A flare of raw hunger darkened his eyes and sent a thrill of excitement racing through her blood.
“More than I should,” he growled, reaching out to enfold her in his arms. Lightly his lips brushed her temple. “I want you, Lady Bianca. I see you across the room and I can barely breathe.”
A shiver of answering awareness trickled down her spine. “That sounds most uncomfortable.”
“You cannot imagine. I am not a gentleman who is as a rule prey to such emotions.” He pulled back to regard her with a tender smile. “Anyone will tell you I am practical, dull, and not at all the sentimental sort. Indeed, most who know me would laugh at the mere notion that I could possess the finer sensibilities.” He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “But when you are near, muirnin, I begin to believe I could learn to be as foolishly quixotic as the most absurd romantic.”
Bianca’s warm, fuzzy drowsiness was suddenly laced with a chill. There was something in his voice…
A soft yearning that sent a rash of warning prickling over her skin.
He had told her that he was not like other gentlemen. He was not shallow or frivolous or inclined to toy with a woman’s affection. He did not attempt to seduce everything in skirts. Or even indulge in meaningless flirtations.
Instead he was frighteningly sincere. And quite incapable of hiding his emotions.
He would always wear his heart on his sleeve.
A heart he would readily allow to be broken by an uncaring female.
Bianca struggled to her feet, smoothing her skirts with an awkward motion.
“I have been gone far too long. We must return before we are missed.”
Lifting himself from the sofa, Edward studied her with a somber gaze. He was far too astute not to have sensed her rapid retreat, but thankfully he did not press her for an explanation.
A good thing, considering she wasn’t sure she possessed one.
“Very well.” He reached up to tug a stray curl into place. “I think it best if I leave first and ensure that there is no one lurking about. If I do not return within a few minutes, you will know that it is safe to follow.”
She swallowed a strange lump in her throat. “Yes.”
“Bianca—”
“Edward, you really must go,” she hastily interrupted.
His eyes darkened as if he were frustrated by her obstinate refusal to discuss whatever it was upon her mind. Heaving a faint sigh, he placed a gentle kiss on her brow and turned to walk toward the door.
Watching as his large form disappeared from the room, Bianca pressed her hands to her stomach.
The moments she had spent in Edward’s arms had been magical. Earth-shattering. And something she could not convince herself to regret.
But while a part of her reveled in the pleasure Edward had taught her, another part could not deny that their relationship had irrevocably changed.
Just what that meant for the future, Bianca was uncertain.
But she did know she had better figure it out before she managed to wound Edward in a manner she never intended.
CHAPTER NINE
Despite the steady rain, Edward forced his feet to carry him through the mud and grime of Charing Cross Road.
A most unpleasant experience, and one that he was not quite certain why he was enduring.
It couldn’t be for the lingering aroma of boiled eel and stale gin. Nor for the pleasure of being the target of every pickpocket, beggar, and prostitute in the neighborhood.
Perhaps part of the blame could be laid at the feet of young Joseph. Edward had, after all, made a promise to do all he could to locate the lad’s missing sweetheart. And he never gave his promises lightly.
But that did not explain why he had not simply given the task over to one of his numerous servants. Or why he had chosen to continue his search on a day fit only for waterfowl and lunatics.
Deftly avoiding the bucket of filth being tossed from an overhead window, Edward grimaced.
What was the point in attempting to fool himself? He was wandering through the wretched streets because he could not bear to spend another futile day attempting to thrust his way into Lady Bianca’s presence.
Over the past week he had ridden miles through Hyde Park, attended every tedious social event for which he had received an invitation, and even braved the ducal townhouse only to be turned away.
Again.
And all for nothing.
Bianca was nowhere to be found. At least, nowhere that he was in the position to find her.
It was bloody frustrating.
And more than a tad worrisome.
Halting as the door to a tailor shop was thrust open, Edward’s broodings were interrupted by the glimpse of bright red curls and a round, freckled face.
He was so stunned at the sudden appearance of the very woman he was seeking that he did not so much as blink as she tossed the bucket of mop water directly upon his boots.
“Sally?” he muttered. “Good God, I cannot believe I have found you.”
Lifting her head, the young maid gave a sudden squeak and dropped the heavy bucket. Thankfully not upon his toes.
“Sir.” She swallowed heavily before abruptly performing an awkward curtsy. “I mean…my lord.”
He waved an impatient hand. “Bah, do not start with that nonsense. Your fathe
r was my groom since I was in the cradle and has taken a willow switch to my backside more than once. I believe he would still be using that switch if he had not taken his pension.”
Appearing pale and more than a bit distressed, Sally clutched at the apron that covered her threadbare gown.
“Whatever are you doing here?”
“Actually that was the question I was about to pose to you. We have all been very concerned for you, my dear.”
“I left a note for Pa.”
“A note that said nothing more than you were off to London and that you would write with your directions once you had settled,” he pointed out gently, half afraid she might suddenly disappear into the gathering fog.
She bit her lip as a flush crawled beneath her pale skin. “Aye, well…I’ve been terrible busy.”
Edward’s gaze briefly took in her chapped and calloused hands before turning toward the open door, where he could see a recently mopped floor.
“So I see.”
Her flush deepened. “’Tis good, honest work.”
“Of course it is,” he soothed, “but I do not believe you came to London to scrub floors, did you, Sally?”
There was a long pause as she struggled between pride and misery, and then without warning her eyes filled with tears.
“Nay. I thought I was to be an actress. Freddie promised that he would make me famous through all of England. It was all a clanker, of course. Once he got what he was wanting…” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “He was nothing more than a rotter.”
Although Edward had never encountered the minor nobleman who had briefly visited the village near his estate, he had no difficulty in accepting that he was indeed a rotter.
Only the worse sort of cad would lure a naïve child from her home for the sole purpose of debauchery.
And if he ever tracked down the mysterious Freddie, he intended to lodge a lead ball in his arse. At close range.
“Once you discovered the truth of this Freddie, why did you not come home, my dear?”
A tear slid through the dust that coated her round countenance. “How can I? I have shamed myself.”
“You were led astray by a cad,” he corrected.
“Nay, I am ruined. ’Tis best that all believe me to be dead.”
Edward reached out to grasp her work-roughened hand. “Nonsense. We all make mistakes and errors in judgment.” His lips twisted as he recalled his ridiculous pursuit of the beautiful Bianca. “Some of us more than others. But whatever has happened, your father, and more particularly Joseph, are desperate to have you home.”
She bit her lip, clearly wishing to believe his words of comfort and yet afraid to hope.
“How can they ever forgive me?”
“Quite easily.” He gave her fingers a slight squeeze. “They love you.”
Another tear slid down her face. And another. Then without warning she had tossed herself against his chest to sob in earnest.
“I’ve been such a fool.”
Edward patted her back as he hastily flagged down a passing hack. He possessed blessed little experience in comforting distraught young maids. The sooner he could have Sally in the care of his housekeeper, the better.
“You have punished yourself long enough, Sally. It is time to return to your family.”
“I would like that, but…” She stepped back to regard him with a troubled frown.
“What is it?”
She glanced toward the open door to the tailor shop. “Mr. Caster was kind enough to take me in when no one else would. I cannot just abandon him.”
“Allow me to deal with Mr. Caster. I will ensure he is well-compensated for his kindness,” he assured her as he led her to the waiting carriage and helped her to settle within the shadowed interior.
“You are…so very good, my lord.”
Dismissing her gratitude with a wave of his hand, Edward pulled out a gilt-edged card and scribbled instructions upon the back of it.
“Here.” He thrust the card into her fingers. “Take this with you and give it to my butler. He will ensure you are given a warm meal, and then one of my servents will see that you are safely returned to your father.”
“Thank you, sir,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
“Your gratitude belongs to Joseph. He refused to give up hope that you would someday return to him,” he said firmly.
The tears once again threatened. “I don’t deserve him.”
“I think that is a decision that should be left to him, my dear. Take care and be happy.”
Stepping back, he closed the door and called out the address to the waiting driver. Then, as the hack rattled away, he turned to enter the shop.
Much to his surprise, it took longer than he had expected to satisfy the suspicious tailor that his intentions toward Sally were honorable. Somehow, the man had gotten it into his thick head that Edward was some sort of nefarious ruffian, and it was only with the promise that he would be allowed to visit Sally and ensure she was unharmed that Edward could leave the shop without having the magistrates called to haul him to Newgate.
With a shake of his head that anyone could think him a scurrilous cad, Edward returned to the damp streets and trudged his way toward the nearby almshouse. He had requested to review the quarterly accounts before offering his contribution, and now seemed as good a time as any to complete the rather tedious task.
Then it was back to his townhouse for a hot bath and another twelve rounds with his valet as he was groomed and wrangled into his evening wear for another tedious evening of what passed for entertainment in London.
Ah…the life of a dandy.
It was enough to make a sane man ram his head into the nearest wall.
Wallowing in his fine sense of self-pity, Edward paid no heed to the glossy black carriage directly halted before the almshouse. Not until a slender, painfully familiar female swept from the grimy building toward the waiting groom.
A terrifying jolt of happiness shot through him as he caught sight of the perfect ivory countenance and delectable curves.
Hell’s teeth. Every part of his being longed to rush forward and sweep her into his arms. To carry her to his house and lock her away so that she could never again avoid him.
Despite claims that he was little better than a barbarian, Edward had never considered himself one.
Not until this moment.
With an effort, he squashed his primal urge to swoop and conquer and instead stepped directly into her path and performed a rigidly polite bow.
“Lady Bianca, what a delightful surprise.”
Forced to halt or ram directly into his large form, the raven-haired beauty regarded him with a sudden flush.
“Oh…Edw…Lord Harrington.”
His rare temper stirred and then flamed at her obvious discomfiture. Damn it all, only days ago this woman had writhed with pleasure in his arms. He still sported the bruises from where she had clutched at his arms and found her release.
Why the devil was she suddenly treating him as if he were something that should be swept into the gutter?
For once Edward did not ponder and consider before charging into action. Perhaps not so surprising. He was damp, chilled, and frustrated beyond all measure.
And this woman standing before him was entirely to blame.
With the speed that always caught others off guard, he reached out to grasp her arm and firmly pulled her toward the open carriage door.
“A word, Lady Bianca, if you do not mind.”
“What…”
Edward had the contrary minx plucked from the street and into the carriage before she could flay him with the sharp edge of her tongue. He even managed to slam shut the door before the outraged groom could lift a hand to help his mistress.
He was not quite swift enough, however, to avoid her unexpected kick to his knee as he settled in the seat opposite her.
“Ow.” He glared at her as he tossed aside his dripping hat and pulled off his gloves. “
If you must kick at me, you could choose a less painful location.”
The dark eyes snapped with irritation. “I possess three brothers, Lord Harrington. You are fortunate I chose your knee at all.”
Against his will he felt his lips twitch. “Vixen.”
She gave a sniff as she settled back in the leather. “Do you mind telling me why you have thought fit to accost me on the street?”
“Because it was preferable to storming your father’s fortress and no doubt ending up in some ducal dungeon,” he retorted dryly.
A revealing heat touched her cheeks. “That is absurd.”
“Is it?”
She shifted uneasily. “What are you doing here?”
It did not take a genius to realize she desired to avoid a confession of her reasons for treating him as if he carried the plague. Dammit all. He wanted to shake the truth out of her.
Of course, he would never do such a thing.
Gritting his teeth, Edward grudgingly accepted that for now patience was the better part of virtue.
Or some such nonsense.
“Searching for Joseph’s young sweetheart.”
“Did you find her?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. She was mopping the floor of a tailor’s shop when I happened to stumble across her.”
“Good heavens.” She blinked in surprise. “Where is she now?”
He gave a lift of his shoulder. “Hopefully in the hands of my housekeeper, who will fuss over her until she can be returned to her home.”
A portion of her wariness faded as a smile curved her lips. “But that is wonderful.”
His breath caught in his throat at her smile. God, she was so beautiful.
“Yes, it is. Sally is young and inclined to be impulsive, but she will make Joseph a good wife.” He folded his arms over his chest, regarding her with a brooding expression. “Now tell me what brings you to such a neighborhood.”
She smoothed the pale green skirts, unaware of how the damp muslin was clinging to her body. Edward, on the other hand, was achingly conscious of every delectable curve.
“I did say that I would attempt to discover a means of helping these people,” she muttered.
Edward gave a startled lift of his brows. “So you did. And what means have you decided upon?”
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