The Bedding Proposal
Page 22
He stood across the room in front of a small writing desk. He was also fully dressed.
She called his name again.
This time he heard her and turned his head her way. “I’m sorry. I was hoping you’d keep sleeping. I was just writing you a note.”
She squinted. “Why?”
“I have to leave immediately for London. My brother Lawrence has landed himself in a bit of a fix and needs my help.”
“Oh,” she said, pushing her hair away from her face as she tried to shake off her sleepiness. “Is he all right?”
“Yes. At least I think so. I guess I’ll find out for sure once I get there.”
“Where is there?”
“The Giltspur Street Compter.”
“What?” She sat up, the sheets falling to her waist. She snatched them back up to cover her bare breasts. “Your brother is in gaol?”
“So it would appear.”
“I shall go with you.”
“No, you stay and sleep some more,” he said, meeting her eyes. “You must be tired after the night we had.”
A sudden warmth curled inside her at the reminder, but she didn’t look away. “I am a bit weary, but I’ll never be able to fall back to sleep now. Besides, how will I get to London if you leave?”
“I shall return to pick you up, of course.”
She gave a small shake of her head. “Who knows how long you will be occupied with your brother? You could be away for hours. No, I shall come with you now.”
His golden brown eyebrows drew together in thought. “I suppose I could drop you at your town house first, then go on from there.”
“Lord Lawrence would not thank me for the delay. I shall accompany you to the gaol. You can take me home afterward.”
He scowled. “Gaol is no place for a lady.”
“I’ll wait outside.”
“In Giltspur Street? I think not.”
“No one will accost me, but if you are worried, then I shall accompany you inside. I find myself rather curious to see the inside of a gaol.”
“Don’t be. They are miserable places.”
“Then we must stop arguing and hurry to get Lawrence released. Now, hand me my shift, please.”
His jaw worked as if he was deciding which of several rebuttals to make. Instead, he walked across to a nearby chair, picked up her undergarment and handed it to her.
“Turn around,” she said, suddenly viscerally aware that she once again had nothing on while he was fully dressed.
He gave her a disbelieving look. “I have seen you naked, you know.”
“I know.” She kept hold of the sheet covering her. “Now turn around.”
He laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“And you are wasting time. Pst-pst.” She made a turning motion with her fingers.
“Fine,” he said after a moment, “but I want a kiss first.”
“There isn’t time.”
He approached, then bent down, taking her face between his hands. “There is always time for a kiss.”
Then his mouth was on hers, moving with a leisurely yet determined intensity that sizzled through her like a blistering summer heat. His fingers slid into her hair, massaging her scalp as he kissed her harder.
“We should stop,” she said on a breathless gasp. “Your brother—”
“Isn’t going anywhere.” He smoothed a hand down her arm. “What’s another few minutes?”
“Your brother might disagree. Leo, he needs your help.”
But her body wished he didn’t.
Leo pressed another kiss to her lips, then sighed and eased away. “Put your shift on,” he said gruffly. “I’ll act as your lady’s maid with the rest.”
Straightening, he turned his back.
Chapter 23
Beyond the heavy doors of the Giltspur Street Compter, the air smelled of vomit, urine and rank, unwashed bodies. Misery seemed etched into the very walls of the place, human suffering everywhere to be seen inside its shadowy confines.
Yet, as Leo knew, this was nothing compared with the sheer brutality that awaited those unlucky souls scheduled for transfer to the larger, nearby house of incarceration—Newgate Prison. That was where the masses of accused mixed with the worst sorts of criminals—the murderers, thieves and rapists who would likely swing from Tyburn Tree once their trials decreed their fate. Luckily for Lawrence, Giltspur was for lesser, petty crimes or for those who could not pay their debts.
As a barrister, Lawrence usually visited such places to provide counsel to inmates, not the other way around. Clearly, he hadn’t been able to argue his way out—although perhaps he’d found himself too embarrassed to try.
“Still glad you decided to accompany me?” Leo asked Thalia, who stood at his side with a handkerchief over her nose. “Has your curiosity been satisfied yet?”
Her brown eyes met his own knowing gaze. Resolutely, she tucked her handkerchief back into her pocket. “It is not something I will soon forget. Let us find Lord Lawrence and be gone from here.”
Leo hid a wry grin and followed after the turnkey, who had already received his fee for performing his duty. In fact everyone who worked here demanded some kind of payment—usually from the prisoners themselves, who found that the more they could afford to pay, the better their accommodations.
Lawrence must have run out of funds, Leo realized, as he and Thalia were led to a rather middling sort of cell.
A couple of prisoners called to them as they passed, one reaching out with grubby fingers, trying to touch the edge of Thalia’s skirt. He laughed when she jumped and sidled closer to Leo, who wrapped a protective arm around her waist.
Before Leo could tongue-lash the fellow for his impudence, the turnkey struck the man’s knuckles through the bars with the long stick he carried. The inmate howled in pain and disappeared back into his cell.
“Sorry ’bout tha’, milady. Milord,” the turnkey said as he led them farther along the corridor. “Can’t remember last time we had Quality come visitin’. Makes the others restive.” He stopped in front of a cell door. “Here we be. Ye say he’s yer brother, do ye?”
Leo peered through the bars to the figure who sat hunched on a wooden stool. The prisoner turned his head and met Leo’s eyes with ones that were so like his own.
Or rather with one eye, Leo saw, since Lawrence’s other was black and swollen shut. Lawrence had a cut lip, another cut along his left cheekbone and a purple bruise that ran the length of his jaw. With his hair mussed and face unshaven, he looked a proper ruffian, rather than his normally well-groomed self. His silk waistcoat was missing, and his jacket and formerly white linen shirt were both ripped and dirty. His trousers had fared slightly better, but not by much. And he still had his boots.
The turnkey blinked and stared between the two of them. “Well, I’ll be deuced. Ye two look jus’ alike, ’cept fer tha bruises. Guess he is yer kin.”
“He is,” Leo said in a grave voice. “Open this door at once.”
“That’ll be an extra two farthings ter let ye go inside,” the turnkey stated. His dark eyes widened when he met the glare Leo turned upon him. The older man swallowed nervously.
Leo reached into his jacket and withdrew half a crown. “Tell the sheriff I expect my brother, Lord Lawrence, to be released within the hour whatever the charges. I shall pay any outstanding fines.”
The other man goggled, then gave a nod, snatching the coin from Leo’s fingers. “I’ll tell ’im.”
Hands trembling, the gaoler jangled his heavy iron ring of keys, found the one he wanted and inserted it into the lock of Lawrence’s cell.
Moments later, Leo and Thalia stepped inside.
The door locked behind them, the turnkey hurrying away.
Lawrence stood and came forward. “Leo, thank God. I wasn’t sure if my note had reached you. They’re a pack of leeches in here, wanting money for every conceivable thing. Had to trade my gold cravat pin just for the paper, ink and quill. My waistcoat we
nt for the messenger fee. I was afraid I’d have to sell my coat soon if you didn’t arrive.”
“Well, I’m here now. What in Hades’ name happened to you?”
“Long story. Let’s just say Northcote got me out on the town drinking last night. We ended up in a rather unsavory dockside pub, then into a brawl with some nasty toughs. All hell broke loose and somehow I ended up here. Northcote’s a wild bastard when he fights. Is he here, do you know?”
“I don’t. Let’s get you released first. Then we can sort out the rest. Do you need to see a doctor?”
“No. It’s mostly just cuts and bruises and a sore rib or two. I’ve had worse.”
Leo nodded, remembering well all the worse things Lawrence had suffered over the years.
At his side, Thalia made a compassionate tsk low in her throat.
At the sound, Lawrence looked past Leo’s shoulder. “Lady Thalia. My pardon for not greeting you immediately. And for my earlier cursing. My manners are somewhat lacking at present, as is my attire.”
She sent him a reassuring smile. “That’s quite all right, Lord Lawrence. These are rather unusual circumstances, after all. I think a bit of foul language can be excused. And without a valet, the state of your clothing cannot be faulted either.”
He smiled, likely for the first time since he’d been tossed inside this cell.
“If you don’t mind my impertinence,” Lawrence said a moment later, “why are you here, Lady Thalia?”
“Because she insisted on coming with me. She was curious to see the inside of a gaol.” Leo crossed his arms and shot her a look. “If I am not mistaken, her curiosity has been satisfied.” He met her gaze with a wry challenge. “Unless you would like to go up the street and visit Newgate before we return home?”
Her mouth tightened with annoyance over his teasing, yet she couldn’t repress a small shudder at the idea of his suggestion. “Thank you, no. The accommodations here have been more than illuminating.”
Leo’s lips twitched; then he laughed.
Lawrence joined him moments later.
* * *
They rolled to a stop in front of Leo and Lawrence’s Cavendish Square town house roughly two hours later. Thalia was seated between the twins, the three of them tucked in as snugly as peas in a pod inside Leo’s curricle.
In spite of her misgivings, she had accompanied the brothers to their home rather than insisting that they first drop her off at her own town house. She’d known that Lord Lawrence, regardless of his outwardly brave front, was in a great deal of pain. He was bruised and beaten, exhausted and filthy and, more than anything, in need of care and sleep. She and Leo would get his brother inside and make sure he had everything he required for his health and comfort.
Then Leo could drive her home.
Leo sprang down to the pavement first, then reached up to lift her out.
Lawrence waved off any assistance, climbing somewhat gingerly from the vehicle with a hand clutched against his obviously aching ribs. He looked up at the town house and sighed. “Thank God. It’s good to be home.”
“Don’t thank God,” Leo told him in an affable voice. “Thank me, since I’m the one who convinced the sheriff to drop the arrest charges against you.”
“What I did was in self-defense—”
“Which I explained to him in some of my finest lawyerly exposition since taking part in mock trial proceedings.”
“Was that before or after you bribed him?”
Leo shrugged. “We negotiated a rather generous settlement of cash for freedom. If you’d like, I can take you back, so you can argue the case before the judge. I’m sure it will only take three or four days for you to appear at the dock for trial.”
“No, I’d rather go inside. Thanks, Leo.”
Leo laid a hand on his shoulder. “Anytime. I know you’d do the same for me.”
“I’d do anything for you. We’re brothers.”
“Brothers.”
They shared a smile; then Leo turned and reached out a hand to Thalia. She took it and moved to accompany them into the house.
“Byron,” a voice called, bringing them all to a halt again.
The twins turned at the same instant, the similarity of their movements almost uncanny.
The man strode closer, then stopped and looked at Lawrence. “Glad to see you made it back in one piece. If you hadn’t turned up soon, I would have come looking. Some night, huh?”
“Yes, some night,” Lawrence repeated.
This must be Northcote, Thalia realized, the person he’d mentioned earlier.
Compared with Lawrence, Northcote was barely touched, only a single bluish bruise on his left cheekbone. Otherwise, he was impeccably groomed—clean, well dressed and freshly shaven. He was tall, taller even than the twins by two inches at least, and bluntly attractive in an unconventional way. Yet it was his tawny eyes that were his most arresting feature. They reminded her of the eyes of a hawk, a very clever, very keen hawk who knew how to take care of itself, while it skillfully hunted down its prey.
Northcote exuded a lethal combination of sophistication, sexuality and cunning, and woe betide anyone foolish enough to get in his way. Luckily, he now displayed only friendly concern for Lawrence, his drinking companion and neighbor.
Leave it to Leo and Lawrence to have a predatory raptor living one door down from them. Although, as she well knew, the twins were more than capable of being predatory themselves when it suited their purpose.
Leo was more of a lion, however.
Her lion.
Moving closer, she clasped his hand tighter.
He squeezed hers back.
“Sorry we got split up,” Northcote continued in his rich baritone. “It was madness after the fight broke out. Are you all right?”
“I’ve been worse. What about you? You look—”
“Like a man who wasn’t just released from gaol an hour ago,” Leo interrupted.
Northcote turned his gaze on Leo. “I got home two hours ago from Newgate. I didn’t realize Lawrence was still in desperate straits or I would have come to his aid. It would appear I owe him an apology for all the trouble.”
Lawrence shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. There’s no lasting harm done.”
“I’m having a party Thursday next,” Northcote told Lawrence. “I hope you will attend. And you, Lord Leopold.” He turned his penetrating gaze on Leo for a moment before it settled on her. He smiled. “You and your charming companion are welcome as well.”
Leo stiffened. “Thank you, but no. Lady Thalia and I have other plans.”
Northcote’s smile widened as if he was fully aware that she and Leo had no such plans. Then he turned back to Lawrence. “You look done in and I’m keeping you here on the street talking. Go inside and rest. I shall see you anon. Lord Leopold. Lady Thalia.” With a short bow, he turned and strode toward his own town house.
“Heavens,” Thalia said once Northcote was out of earshot.
“‘Heavens’ is an understatement.” Leo said.
He scowled after the other man in a way that struck her as being jealous, though he certainly had no reason to be.
He turned to his brother. “So I suppose you’re going to accept that blighter’s invitation?”
Lawrence grinned despite his split lip. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Chapter 24
Four days later, Thalia awakened to the sound of a cold early-November wind rattling the windowpanes and an overcast sky full of clouds that almost certainly promised rain.
What perfectly miserable weather, she thought. But she supposed it was apt, considering what day it was.
Her birthday.
She was now another year older—two-and-thirty.
It was a fact that only added to the oppressive gloominess outside. Then again, she’d long ago fallen out of the habit of celebrating the anniversary of her birth. For her it was a day, just like any other day. She didn’t know why she even bothered to remember.
&nb
sp; Oh yes, so I can feel the age difference between Leo and me all that much more.
With a sigh, she tossed back the covers and reached for her robe and slippers, sliding into both of them quickly to ward off the chill in the room.
As much as she wished she could crawl back under the covers and sleep for another hour, it was time to be about her day.
Leo had left shortly after dawn, murmuring something about having errands to run as he’d kissed her a drowsy good-bye. She couldn’t imagine what errands he might have, but considering the amount of time they’d been spending together lately, she supposed he had been neglecting his business affairs and needed to catch up.
She had accounts and household matters of her own to which she ought to attend; this morning would be a good opportunity to get a few of them seen to before Leo returned later that afternoon.
Hera gave her a happy little meow from where she lay curled atop a blanket set in the window seat. Thalia went across to pet her, smiling at Hera’s answering purrs.
She crossed next to the washstand, pleased when she found the water Parker had left for her still warm in the jug.
Face washed and teeth scrubbed clean with cinnamon tooth powder, she was brushing her hair a few minutes later when Parker gave a quick tap at the door and came inside.
Her lady’s maid carried a breakfast tray, a wide smile on her face. Delicious scents drifted to Thalia’s nose and her stomach rumbled with anticipation.
“Good morning, milady. I hope you slept well.”
“Very well.” She took a seat at the small table in her sitting room where she usually broke her fast—although her dining habits hadn’t been quite as regulated since she and Leo had started seeing each other.
Her eyes widened when Parker lifted the cloche to reveal a mouthwatering selection of foodstuffs—biscuits, shirred eggs, steak, porridge, stewed apricots, honey, butter, hot tea and milk.
“Gracious. Mrs. Grove has outdone herself. How will I ever be able to eat all this?” Thalia asked.
Usually she contented herself with a simple breakfast of toast and tea, and occasionally an egg and a rasher of bacon if she was particularly hungry. So what was Mrs. Grove thinking to have prepared so much?