As Wicked as You Want: Forever Ours Book 1

by Nia Farrell

  Anticipating his answer, Tamás dropped Daniel’s coat over the railing to him.

  “Sit and rest, Lanie. I’ll be back afore ye know it.”

  The door slammed shut behind him. Tamás pulled a familiar bottle out of his pocket, only a few doses left of his grandmother’s stomach elixir. “Drink,” he ordered. “I can’t have ye doubled over.”

  I twisted the cork and took a healthy swallow, knowing I would need it, if I were to have any chance of escape. Daniel thought to make a quick trip, but he wouldn’t, of course. Whether or not Lucy was in on it, the fact was, when he got there, my bottle would be missing. He would have to find Lucy and ask her for the new one. Every minute he was delayed would let them take me that much farther away from him.

  “Good.” Tamás nodded, not to me, but to someone behind me. Tobar brought a handkerchief to my face, saturated with the sweet smell that had haunted me since Fredericksburg. My last coherent thought, before the chloroform claimed me, was that wherever these two Judases were taking me, Rutherford Paine would surely be there with his thirty pieces of silver.

  *****

  I regained consciousness in a warehouse, this one full of crates and barrels of God knew what. A mountain of them hid me in the corner where I found myself, tied to a chair. The fog of chloroform was dissipating, making me aware that my mouth was sour, as if I’d been sick. I had a headache that only added to my misery.

  “Good. You’re back.”

  “Tobar—” My response was cut short when he gagged me. The bitterness in my mouth failed to mask the taste of salt from the sweat on the kerchief that he used.

  “About time.” Tamás heaved himself off of a crate behind me and circled around where I could see him. “Toby’s no surgeon, eh? He was scared shitless that he’d given you too much when you stopped breathing for a moment, until you went and threw up all over him. He has to go change clothes now, thanks to you. Nod if you understand what I’ve said. Or blink twice. Surely your eyelids work even if your head doesn’t.”

  I managed two blinks and inwardly consigned him to hell. Poor Lucy. I was certain that she had no idea of their true nature, otherwise she’d have run as far and as fast from them as her feet would take her. Unfortunately, mine weren’t going anywhere, bound as they were to the front legs of the chair.

  “Right, then. I’m going to ask you some questions. Blink once for yes, twice for no. Let’s try it now. Blink once.” I did, cursing him to perdition. “Twice.” God damn him. “Good. Do you remember my telling you that someone put a bounty on your head?’

  I blinked, but being cognizant of the fact didn’t make it any less surreal.

  “A fat purse, too. You’re lucky we heard it early and got to you first.”

  Oh, really? Well, I didn’t feel lucky. Far from it.

  “Yes,” he was saying, checking his pistol and tucking it in his belt. “You didn’t croak on us. The bounty’s safe, and your quilt will wash. It’s a nice one, that.”

  Because he’d seen it. Lain atop it or burrowed beneath it. Daniel had had everything laundered before we took our turn, trying out the new spring mattress. Just the thought that Tamás had touched it made me ill. My stomach pinched, and I screwed my eyes shut, praying that I didn’t sicken. I’d choke to death if he couldn’t undo my gag quickly enough.

  It would serve him right, I thought bitterly, equally dividing my hatred between Rutherford Thomas Paine and the heathen gypsy twins as I felt the first fat, hot tear squeeze out and slide down my cheek.

  Seeing me cry seemed to discomfit him. He bit back a curse and rubbed at his neck, his gaze shifting between me and the door by which Tobar had left, listening to both in stilted silence. I don’t know how much time passed before the door opened again. Boot heels clicked across the floor, sounding as ominous as the rattles on a snake, until finally, he stepped into view. Rutherford Thomas Paine. My sister’s abuser. A man with no mercy, and I was about to be handed over to him.

  Rutherford nodded with satisfaction, crossed the floor, and raised his hand to strike me—and he would have, if Tamás had not caught his arm and wrenched it down. “Here now,” he said smoothly. “She’s not yours yet. Not until you pay what was promised when you put word out to bring her in alive and undamaged. She’s all that,” he assured him. “Now where’s the chink?”

  Rutherford pulled out a wallet and tossed it to him. “It’s there. Every pound.” The look that he gave me clutched my heart with the icy fist of dread, promising that he’d take it back with interest, once we were alone.

  I couldn’t help it. I struggled against my bonds, desperate to escape, praying for a rescue that was sure to come too late. I’d be beaten or raped, mutilated or dead by the time they found me. No matter what I’d done in the past, what penance remained to be paid, I did not deserve the fate that Rutherford had planned for me.

  Tamás took the wallet and began counting the bills out loud. No wonder he’d been tempted. Rutherford had offered what was likely five years’ wages for a laborer. Every denizen of London’s seedy underbelly would be looking to collect it. I was doomed. Doomed.

  “It’s all here,” Tamás announced. “Now then, step aside and I’ll get her undone. Toby’s knots are tricky.”

  Rutherford bit back a curse and watched Tamás work, freeing my legs, then my chest, then my arms. I worked my hands and wrists, checking circulation and function, which seemed normal despite everything.

  “I need her tied,” Rutherford grated. “Or put under, at least until I get her in the carriage.”

  Tamás shrugged. “I need my rope, so under it is.”

  I was loose now, but running and making him give chase would only make things worse. Like a lamb led to the slaughter, I sat in the chair, awaiting my fate.

  Tamás pulled out a flask and wet a folded handkerchief. “One last time,” he crooned. “Just breathe in and let yourself go.”

  His large shoulders blocked my view of Rutherford, who huffed his displeasure, impatient, still the same spoiled heir that he’d been those many years ago. “Breathe,” Tamás said, placing his handkerchief over my mouth and nose. “It will all be over soon.”

  Heaven help me.

  I sucked in a breath, but instead of the sweet smell of chloroform, I smelled alcohol. My gaze flew up to meet Tamás’s.

  He offered a rueful smile. “Breathe,” he reminded me. “Let yourself go and I’ll carry you out of here myself,” he promised, his dark eyes beseeching me to cooperate.

  I went limp in his arms.

  “Right then. Where to?” he asked Rutherford. Hefting me as easily as a dowager would lift a lap dog, Tamás carried me to the door but stopped at the threshold, judging from the light breeze that touched my face, carrying the stench of the river and the smell of horse dung. “She’s heavier than she looks,” he griped. “You’ll need to take her from here.”

  Rutherford swore under his breath but came back, boot heels clicking on the cobblestones outside. When he took me from Tamás, it was all I could do to not shudder in revulsion. But something was happening beyond my ken, and I forced myself to feign the effects of anesthesia, clinging to the promise that it would indeed all be over soon.

  He carried me no more than ten steps before he stopped, shifting to free up a hand and open the carriage door. Just as he was about to dump me inside, a voice rang out from nearby. “Stay where you are, sir, and very gently, let the lady go.”

  Rutherford hadn’t changed a whit. Anticipating his next move—shoving me into the carriage and racing off with me—I threw out my legs and arms so that I would not fit through the door when he tried it. He’d lost his grip on me to do it, and I fell to the street, rolling as I did, both to break my fall and to aid in my escape by crawling under the carriage. When I reached the other side, I saw Tobar with Daniel and Edward. Four unknown men, two of them police officers, had hold of Rutherford. His hands were handcuffed behind his back, and a bloody cut bisected one cheek where he’d resisted arrest.

 
Seeing me, Edward took off his overcoat and held it open. I ran to him, desperate for the shelter of his arms. A single look, and I stopped short of throwing myself at him, allowing him to help me into his coat, instead. He buttoned it to the neck, determined to keep me from the cold December air.

  Let’s see him try to keep the gypsy twins from me.

  I ducked and spun and launched myself at Toby, taking small satisfaction that he still wore his soiled pants. “I’d say I’m sorry about the clothes, but I’d be lying,” I snapped. “What the hell just happened?”

  Beside him, Daniel rubbed his face with both hands, swiping at the suspicious sheen of moisture in his eyes. Moonlight barely penetrated the stygian darkness of this district, but it was enough to see his torment. Clearly, he blamed himself for failing to protect me.

  “Please, don’t, Paddy,” I said softly as the first tear tracked down his cheek. “This wasn’t your fault. None of it. The fault is Rutherford’s, for putting a bounty on my head. And I fear it’s not over yet. Every degenerate man jack in London—present company excluded,” I looked pointedly at Toby, “will be seeking to collect until word gets around that it’s gone. How long does it take?” I asked him. “Hours? Days? Weeks?”

  “Talk is already on the street,” Tobar said, though his expression instilled no hope for a quick end to my nightmare. “Ranald Clarke’s boys are seeing to it, the same as they agreed to let us do the deed, Miss Davenport. We took you to keep you from being taken. It’s the best we could do. We couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t tell anyone, not even Lucy. I need to get back to her. She was a puddle when I got there, and mad as a hornet when I left. Normally she’s got a good heart and an open mind, but this is testing her limits. We’ve got our work cut out for us, to earn her forgiveness. And yours,” he added. “If there’d been any other way, but…I’m glad you’re safe, sorry that this happened, and hope that we can set things right again.”

  I nodded rather than mouth empty, meaningless platitudes. I was still upset with him and his brother. Granted, much, much less than I had been, but still.

  I silently, grudgingly wished him good luck with Lucy and watched him disappear with Tamás. The police pushed Rutherford into their Black Maria, climbed atop the prison wagon, took up the reins, and left.

  “What happens now, Edward? Now that he’s been arrested? They’ll keep him, won’t they? I’m sorry, I don’t know how things work here, whether or not he’ll be allowed to post bail.”

  “No, there will be no bail for Paine,” Edward swore grimly. “You can trust that the British legal system will see him swiftly and surely punished.”

  I looked at his face in the thin light and thought, Dear God, he looks like he’s aged a year since this morning.

  He had lost control. He needed it back. I wanted answers, but answers could wait. Edward could not.

  Stepping between my lovers, I wiped Daniel’s cheek with my chilled fingers, then caught Edward’s hand and kissed it. “Will you take us home, Sir? Please?”

  He sliced a glance at my Irishman, who stood there, red-nosed, tears drying on his face. “Yes. Home. For tonight,” he rumbled. “Tomorrow, the three of us shall go to Bath.”

  “Bath?”

  “Yes. We shall stay there until Clarke sends word that all is clear, even if we must stay through the holidays. Will that upset you, not spending Christmas with your family?”

  “You and Daniel are my family,” I said, believing it with every fiber of my being. “The rest of them will have to understand. If not…well, we have little choice in the matter. I agree that I should stay until the danger has passed, but you have classes, Edward. Students who depend upon you. What will the administration say when you take leave on my behalf? I mean, Bath sounds wonderful. You know that I’ve wanted to visit, even before I stepped foot on English soil. It’s a perfect place, if we are to escape London and most of our woes.”

  But we had the evening and the night ahead of us. Fears to be allayed. Concerns to be addressed. More than that, I longed to put myself into Edward’s safekeeping and forget, if only for a little while.

  I needed his dominance, almost as much as he needed my submission.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “A bath first,” Edward said as we alighted from the carriage that the Clarkes had hired. “I will have Babs send up some fruit. You can nibble while you soak. Then, we are going to sit down to a civilized dinner. Afterwards, we shall adjourn to the library, where Daniel will play seditious music and we shall select books to take with us to Bath. No massage tonight, Daniel. I would like to get as much packing as possible done. I will inform Lucy and Benson to ready our clothes. Elena, you will need your carpet bag for art supplies. Daniel, I would like for you to bring your fiddle in addition to your whittling or anything else that you wish to take to keep boredom at bay. I shall bring my writing to work on, if and when time permits.”

  It was too much to think that our trip would be all sightseeing by day and lovemaking at night. At first, perhaps. But as we visited the local attractions and landmarks, the longer we remained, the less would be left to see and the more time we would have on our hands.

  Edward drew a bath in his large tub and undressed me himself, putting every garment save my corset into a pile for laundering, as if scrubbing would erase the awful memories of this day. And yet, in hindsight, my memories were sparse, as I was unconscious for the worst of it, being loaded and carted away, toted into the warehouse like contraband. I remember Tamás’s pistol pointed at me, but my fear at the time had prevented me from seeing that there was no enmity in his expression. Surety, yes. Confidence that he would succeed, which I would have interpreted to mean success in kidnapping and delivering me to Rutherford, rather than saving me from him. Proof that appearances are misleading, and that hindsight can be more accurate than an initial cold, hard look.

  Edward bathed me himself, stripping off his coat and vest and rolling up his sleeves. He took up a sponge and washed away Rutherford’s taint, reclaiming me, making me feel treasured while Daniel fed me bites of apple and pear and small pieces of sharp, tangy cheese, perfect for settling my stomach. Even the headache I’d had eased somewhat.

  The more I thought about it, the more impressed I was with Tamás. Instead of hiding my medicine, he’d brought it with him, knowing that I likely would need it. Chloroform was known to make people sick.

  Known to make people cease breathing, too.

  Stop.

  I mentally pinched myself. Instead of worrying about what could have gone wrong, I gave thanks for the successes of the day. A real kidnapping averted. Rutherford arrested. A trip to Bath on the morrow, with two men who loved me.

  I sighed and let Edward have my foot. He gave it a little massage as he washed it, rubbing my heel, working his large fingers into the arch, the ball, and between each toe. He was so careful, so considerate, I wanted to cry, and I did, tears cascading down my face, shoulders shaking, making the water churn about me.

  “There, there,” he hummed. “That’s it. Let it go, Elena. You’ve been strong all day. Our brave, darling girl, isn’t she, Daniel? But now you must let us take care of you, hmm? Let us pamper you. Treasure you. Pleasure you.”

  “But I wanted to please you!” I cried.

  “You do please me, pet,” he said, his baritone voice rough with emotion. “You please us both. Never doubt it.”

  “At the warehouse, when it was all done, all I could think of was coming home, kneeling at your feet, and yielding everything to you,” I sobbed. “It’s what I need. What you need. What Daniel needs, if he will but see it.”

  “If that’s what you think, then I shall hold you to it. But patience is a virtue well-rewarded, hmm? Time to enjoy your bath, enjoy our meal, then enjoy readying for our trip. We’ll be staying at the Grand Pump Room Hotel. With immediate access to a library, a reading room, and the waters, I felt that it would best meet our needs. You, of course, will enjoy it because of Miss Austen.”

  I wiped m
y eyes and blinked away the haze. I’d read every one of Jane Austen’s books. The Grand Pump was featured in two of them. But more than visiting a site immortalized in a novel, it was the thought of sharing the experience with Edward and Daniel. Propriety would demand that we have separate rooms, of course, and society would expect us to be attended by servants, yet Edward had said nothing beyond having them pack for us. Knowing how unconventional he was, I was fairly certain that only the three of us would be going.

  “Yes,” I said, excited by the possibilities. “Of course. Who would not? There is so much to see. So much to do.” Drinking the waters and bathing in them were of the first order. There was a large public pool, but private rooms were available. Private pools, with healing waters that each of us would benefit from, given the day that we’d had and the danger that I would continue to face for God only knew how long.

  “And so we shall,” Edward said, lowering my one leg into the water and motioning for the other. I proffered my foot and he paid it every attention, with sponge and hand and those magic fingers of his. I felt as if I’d melted, boneless, into my bath by the time that we were done.

  Dried off and wrapped in a towel, I plucked up the last bits of fruit and cheese and fed them to Daniel, my thanks for the same consideration that he’d shown me. There was no fear that I’d spoil his supper. My Irishman could eat like no other man I’d ever met. I don’t know if his prodigious appetite had any correlation on the copious amount of sperm that he produced, but it seemed possible, if not plausible.

  Supper was a quiet affair. I was warm from my bath and mellow from the wine that kept magically appearing in my glass, until Edward decided that I’d had enough and I had to start sipping to make it last. My headache, however, had worsened to the point that I barely touched my dessert, an apple dish, still warm from the oven, served with sweet, rich cream drizzled on top and a flaky crust underneath.