He didn’t want her to throw what he was certain would be a horrendous tantrum in his lodgings. Nor in hers. Finding an appropriate place was going to be a bit of a bother. And he was certain a tantrum would be forthcoming. Ladies tended to look unfavorably on gentlemen who’d not been honest in their dealings with them-even when the dishonesty wasn’t their choice.
“Do you remember Cremorne Gardens when you confessed that you didn’t want the night ruined by-”
“By talk of the past?”
“Yes.”
“I shouldn’t let it ruin this night either.” She pressed a kiss to his chest, and he immediately hardened.
They lay in silence for several moments, simply absorbing the nearness of each other. He wondered how he was going to manage without her in his bed-in his life, for that matter. She was still aristocratic by birth. Surely she’d realized at the ball that she could find a good match in London. He’d been selfish to so willingly pounce on her words when she indicated that she wanted to spend the night in his arms.
“I hate the scars on your back,” she said softly.
His gut clenched and tightened. He’d kept them from everyone except her-and Frannie, who’d tended them. “I know they’re hideous.”
“No. No, they’re not.” She rose up on her elbows and held his gaze. “They’re a testament to your…ability to survive. You could have ended up like your father-hanged.”
He didn’t think his gut could clench any tighter. He was wrong. “If we’re not going to talk about your past, I’d rather not talk about mine.”
With a nod of acquiescence, she laid her head in the center of his chest. “I can hear your heart beat. I like the sound of it.”
“It always beats faster when you’re near.”
She dug her chin into his breastbone.
“Ouch!”
“Don’t feed me false flattery, Mr. Swindler.”
“I never would, Miss Watkins.”
She reached up and nipped his chin. He liked this playful side of her. Her character possessed so many different facets that he thought he needed a lifetime to study them all.
“Your rooms surprised me,” she said. “Especially your bedchamber. I was expecting something a bit more…decadent from a self-professed scoundrel.”
“What did you have in mind? Perhaps I can accommodate.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. Something a bit more…red.”
“Brown suits me.”
“It doesn’t stand out.”
“I’m not one for wanting to stand out. Besides, I have the one thing in my bedchamber that every disreputable scoundrel must have.”
Her brow furrowed in concentration, she glanced around the room: at the bureau, at the chair, at the pile of clothes. “I can’t imagine what it might be.”
He gave her a teasing grin. “A lovely woman he can’t keep his hands off of.”
She released a tiny screech as he rolled her over until she was beneath him.
“Besides, Miss Watkins, what I have in my bedchamber isn’t nearly as important as what I do in it.”
Then he proceeded to take them both to paradise.
The sun was only just beginning to chase away the fog when he slipped her out of his lodgings. Thankfully, the carriage was still waiting for them. How wonderful it was that he had friends with the means to demand of their servants inconvenience.
As he assisted her inside and she settled on the bench, she fought not to have regrets. When his arm came around her, she buried her face in the nook of his shoulder, inhaling the wondrous fragrance that was him. And then she remembered his gift.
“Oh, I forgot the necklace. Will you help me remove it?”
“Take it. It’s yours.”
She jerked around to face him. “But you said it was on loan.”
“I lied. I didn’t think you would accept it otherwise.”
“It’s too grand a gift. It would be improper.”
“Eleanor, we’ve just spent the entire night being improper. Don’t be a hypocrite.”
She fought not to show how the harshness in his voice had hurt her, but he must have guessed because his face gentled and he tucked his finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I have no one in my life for whom I can purchase gifts, and money means nothing to me. Please accept them as a token of my esteem.”
She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t, but the truth was that she loved them. Touching her fingers to them, she said as graciously as possible, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
They said not another word, but then the journey was short. A few streets over. It wasn’t until he was standing before her at the door, his ungloved hand cradling her cheek, that he spoke again. “I want to call on you this evening.”
She smiled at him and nodded.
“I know you have concerns,” he said quietly, “because your sister came to London and fell into disgrace, but that will not be the way of it between us. I promise you that, Eleanor. We have known each other only a short while, but what I feel for you cannot be measured.”
The hot tears burned her eyes.
He leaned down and kissed the corner of each eye. “Until tonight.”
Taking her key, he opened the door and ushered her inside. He didn’t follow her in. Simply closed the door. She leaned against it, listening to the clatter of hooves and the whirring of wheels taking him farther and farther away from her.
Swindler decided to take advantage of having Claybourne’s carriage. He’d send it back later. For now he had matters that needed his attention. He returned to his lodgings, where he took care in preparing himself to meet with Sir David. He didn’t want to give any evidence of what his night had entailed. However, in the early hours of the morning while Eleanor had lain in his arms, he’d decided it was time to put this nonsense to rest.
When he walked into Sir David’s office, he didn’t give the man the opportunity to say anything other than “Swindler” before he began explaining where he thought matters needed to go.
“I’m quite convinced that Miss Eleanor Watkins is no threat to Rockberry. If anything, the man, himself, is the culprit. I intend to confront him this morning and ask him exactly why he believes Miss Watkins would want him dead, I intend to interrogate him thoroughly in order to determine precisely what he did to Miss Watkins’s sister. There, sir, is where I believe the crime resides, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”
Sir David leaned back in his chair, his face an uncompromising mask. “That might be a bit difficult, Swindler, since Rockberry was murdered last night.”
Chapter 10
Staring at his superior, Swindler felt as though Sir David had delivered a blow to his midsection. Swindler had been charged with protecting the lord, and he’d apparently failed miserably. “Murdered? Are you sure?”
“I’m quite familiar with what a dead man looks like.”
“No, sir, I wasn’t questioning that he was dead, but perhaps his heart simply gave out.”
“It did. After the dagger sliced into it. Your Miss Watkins has just been brought in.”
“It can’t have been her.”
“I’m afraid it was. Rockberry’s brother had apparently returned to the residence after a late night at the pleasure gardens, and he spied Miss Watkins going into the library. Sometime later, when he was in want of some brandy, he went to the library and found his brother soaking in his own blood, Miss Watkins nowhere to be seen.”
The anger surged through Swindler. His father had been hanged for a crime he didn’t commit. He would be damned before he allowed the same to happen to Eleanor. “He’s lying. Miss Watkins was with me-until dawn.”
Sir David’s dark eyebrows shot up.
“I have little doubt Rockberry’s brother killed him in order to inherit and is trying to place the blame on Miss Watkins,” Swindler said. “He no doubt knew she’d been following Lord Rockberry, was probably aware that we’d been so informed. He sought to
use the knowledge to his advantage.”
“God, I do hope you’re wrong about that. Her majesty is not going to be pleased to learn that her nobles are behaving badly.”
“It’s quite possible there is another explanation, but I assure you, Miss Watkins is not involved. From the moment I arrived at her lodgings to escort her to the Duchess of Greystone’s ball, she never left my sight.”
“You’ll stake your reputation on that?”
“My life, sir.”
As she sat at a table in the dismal room, she’d never been so terrified in her entire life. Two men had been waiting in the parlor for her. They’d emerged mere seconds after she heard the carriage depart. They’d had a warrant for her arrest, accusing her of murdering Rockberry.
While she’d proclaimed her innocence, they revealed not even a hint of believing her. Of course, she hadn’t provided them with an alibi either, had refused to reveal where she’d been all night and why she was arriving with the dawn. She wasn’t certain it was her place to do so, and considering the harsh glares they’d given her, she wasn’t convinced they would have believed her anyway. They were stern-faced and harsh. They’d not even allowed her an opportunity to change out of her gown before whisking her away.
As soon as the opportunity arose, she’d send word to James. Surely he would speak for her.
The door suddenly opened and a familiar outline filled the doorway. With a gasp of recognition, she burst out of the chair, rushed across the room and flung herself against the man. His arms came around her, offering comfort and strength.
“Oh, my God, James. They think I killed Lord Rockberry.”
“I know,” he said quietly, in that deep, raspy voice that possessed such confidence. The man never doubted, never questioned his ability to handle any situation. “I’ve explained to Sir David that you can’t have killed him, because you were with me…until dawn.”
With a sense of dread shimmering through her, she jerked her head back and looked up into his eyes. She’d expected to see disgust or shame. Instead she saw concern, compassion, and caring. So much caring, as though he were revealing his heart.
“I know your reputation is now in tatters, but I decided better your reputation than your neck.” As though to emphasize his point, he trailed his finger along the column of her throat, at the bottom of which rested the pearls he’d given her. In spite of her terror, she shivered in response.
She felt the tears well in her eyes. With his large hand, he cradled the back of her head and pressed her face against his sturdy chest, where she could hear the slow, steady pounding of his heart. Hers was fluttering like a bird fighting not to fall from the sky, and he remained so calm, so confident.
“Not to worry, Eleanor. I’ll see that your reputation is not ruined for long.”
The gentleness of his promise caused more tears to surface. She was going to be like an overturned bucket of water before long if he continued on with his understanding and kindness.
Tucking her against his side, beneath his arm, he said, “Let’s get you home.”
She reared back to stare at him. “Just like that? They’re going to let me go?”
“You have one of the most respected inspectors of Scotland Yard vouching for you, Miss Watkins,” she heard coming from the side, and turned to see one of the men who’d interrogated her earlier standing there. Sir David. He’d not been the one to come to her lodgings, but the one who marched into this room with such determination that her mouth had gone dry.
“Be quick about getting her settled, Swindler,” Sir David said. “If she didn’t kill Rockberry, we need to determine who did, and swiftly. After all, he is a lord of the realm. The queen will not be pleased with his demise.”
“Yes, sir. I shall meet you at his residence as soon as I’ve seen Miss Watkins home.”
The carriage they’d used last evening was waiting for them at the curb. She supposed he’d not had a chance to return it to his friend before he received word about Rockberry. James climbed into the coach after her and held her near.
“I’ve never been so terrified in my life,” she said, her voice quaking. Even with him holding her, she seemed unable to stop shaking. “Why do you suppose they suspected me?”
“His brother was apparently in residence and claims he saw you arrive around midnight. Says Rockberry joined you in the library. The brother went to bed, then decided he was in need of a drink. He claims he found Rockberry sprawled on the floor, a dagger to the heart. I suspect the brother is the culprit, lying through his teeth. He’s not the first to kill in order to gain a title. He was aware that you were following Rockberry. Knew Scotland Yard knew. So he thought to use the knowledge to his advantage. Now I just need to prove it.”
“Can you do that, do you think? Prove it was Rockberry’s brother?”
“I have a reputation for solving murders. Once I’ve taken a look ‘round Rockberry’s, I should have a better sense of exactly what happened. Right now my assumptions are premature. I shouldn’t have even revealed them to you. But I wanted you to know that you have no cause for worry.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “Everything will be all right, Eleanor.”
Her heart clenched and her chest tightened painfully. There was so much she wanted to tell this man, and so much she couldn’t.
They traveled the remainder of the journey in silence, with her wrapped in the cocoon of his comforting embrace.
When they arrived at her lodgings, he handed her down. As they stood on the walk, he slipped his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. Then he gave her the gentlest of kisses, which made her want to begin weeping all over again.
When he drew back, he held her gaze. “I want you to rest for a bit, put all this behind you. I must see to Rockberry’s murder. When I’m done there, I’ll return to you.” He gave her a tender smile. “Then we shall see to your reputation.”
“James-”
“Shh, Eleanor.” He touched his thumb to her lips. “I shall do right by you, my darling.”
He ushered her inside, and although Mrs. Potter appeared to see to her needs, she felt instantly bereft when he departed. She slowly made her way to her room. Once there, all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball on the bed and weep.
Chapter 11
Swindler couldn’t deny that relief swamped him when he stepped into Rockberry’s library with Sir David and didn’t smell Eleanor’s familiar rose scent. While he knew it was impossible for her to have been there, to have committed the crime, something nagged at him. She’d been in his arms from the moment they departed Frannie’s ball.
He wished he’d been here before the body was removed. It could have told him so much. But apparently when Sir David had come searching for him, he was still traveling through London with Eleanor, kissing her in the carriage before they’d decided to return to his lodgings.
Blood marred the carpet. Two wineglasses sat upon the side table. That bothered him.
“What time did you say you saw the lady enter?” Swindler asked the new Lord Rockberry. Swindler had been surprised to discover that he was the blond-haired man who’d accosted Eleanor at Cremorne Gardens.
“A few minutes after midnight.”
“And you’re certain it was Miss Watkins?”
“Yes.”
“The same Miss Watkins that you attacked at Cremorne?”
“I didn’t attack her,” he said impatiently. “My friends and I were going to have a bit of fun with her. I knew she was following my brother. He was none too pleased with the police not taking more effective action. Thought to scare her off.”
“We have a witness who says Miss Watkins was with him last night,” Sir David said.
“Then your witness is lying,” the new Rockberry said with confidence.
Swindler and Sir David exchanged glances. He saw no doubt in Sir David’s eyes. He’d not considered when he placed Eleanor’s reputation at risk that he was also placing his own.
“I believe you have the
right of it,” Swindler said. “Someone is lying, but I suspect it’s you.”
“For what purpose?” the young Rockberry asked.
“To gain the title.”
“Don’t be daft, man. I didn’t want this. It comes with responsibilities, duties. My brother gave me a generous allowance, and I was a true gentleman of leisure. I cared nothing for the title.”
“Why do you suppose Miss Watkins wanted to kill him?” Swindler asked.
“Something to do with her sister. My brother…as much as it pains me to say it-and I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead-was not always kind to women.”
“He took advantage of Elisabeth Watkins?”
“In all likelihood, yes.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Swindler said. “I have no further questions at this time.”
After the marquess left, Sir David asked, “So what are you thinking, Swindler?”
“His brother had the most to gain, although I suppose it’s possible there is another woman who was wronged and sought revenge. The new Lord Rockberry simply misidentified her.”
“You’re quite certain it wasn’t Miss Watkins?”
“From the moment I first danced with her, near ten o’clock, she never left my arms.”
“Before that?”
“Never left my sight.”
“What time did you leave the ball?”
“Half past eleven.”
“I do hope this nasty matter doesn’t come down to your word against the new Rockberry’s.”
“I shall do all in my power to ensure that it doesn’t.”
Nodding, Sir David sighed. “Right. So what is your plan?”
“Make inquiries, see if I can find this mysterious woman. If nothing comes of that, then I suspect we’ll find ourselves arresting the new Lord Rockberry.”
“Before we do that, just make bloody sure we’ve got the right of it.”
“Yes, sir. I always do.”
“I know, but I thought it bears repeating. This situation needs to be handled very delicately, Swindler.”
Midnight Pleasures with a Scoundrel Page 11