by Adele Clee
“God damn, Daphne,” he whispered trailing kisses down the column of her throat. “Are you determined to drive me insane? Is this to be my punishment for challenging you? Am I to sample something heavenly only to have it ripped from my grasp?”
Thorpe was a man of sound mind. He spoke with care and clarity. These unrestrained ramblings were so unlike him.
“When presented with a problem,” Daphne began, though the liquid fire pooling between her legs made it almost impossible to focus, “a lady must find a way to gain the upper hand.”
Thorpe pulled away abruptly, snatched his hand back from under her dress as though he’d touched a nest of spiders.
“Then my first instinct was correct,” he said with a hint of malice that belied the look of longing swimming in his eyes. “This is a game to you. In your bid to teach me a lesson, you would drag me through the hot fires of hell.”
Daphne slid off his lap and tumbled into the seat opposite. “My initial intention was to do just that,” she said batting the creases from her dress. Her cheeks burned, but she did her best to hold his gaze. “But it has been a long time since I’ve felt close to anyone. I think it’s fair to say we both got a little carried away.”
He glanced down at his boots. “Such a misunderstanding will only hinder our working relationship.”
A misunderstanding? What did he mean?
So she’d kissed him. Like a wild wanton, she’d sat astride those muscular thighs straining against the confines of his breeches. One did not need an education in human emotions to know they had enjoyed the experience.
“There is no misunderstanding.” A working woman did not need to skirt around the truth. “Once our lips met, and you finally responded, it was our mutual desire that took over.” Had her words not dampened his ardour, heaven knows where their passionate encounter would have ended.
The carriage rumbled to a halt in Church Street, prompting a change in conversation.
Thorpe shuffled forward. “Give me a few minutes to find a clean coat, and I’ll be back. Wait here.”
He opened the door, jumped to the pavement and inhaled like a man starved of air.
Daphne peered out. “Where are we to go next?”
Thorpe turned, reached into the carriage and snatched his hat from the seat. “I am going to visit Lord Tranmere. And you, Mrs Chambers, are going home.”
Chapter 7
“I am a mature woman not a child in need of coddling.” Daphne followed him into the house in Church Street, her constant complaining a means to rouse a reaction.
Daniel mounted the stairs two at a time to place some distance between them but she raced up behind him, the thud of her boots on the wooden stairs evidence of her frustration.
“Surely your client’s wishes take precedence over your own,” she persisted. “What if I don’t want to go home?”
Daniel swung around and grabbed the bannister at the top of the stairs for fear of throttling the woman to her senses. “What part of your supposedly logical brain fails to appreciate the severity of what has just occurred?”
She climbed the last step and came to stand before him. “Forgive me, but I fail to see why a man of your experience places so much weight on the event. Frankly, you’re overreacting.”
Daniel stared at her, baffled by her nonchalant manner. “Do you take pleasure in causing me distress?”
“Distress? Come now, is that not an exaggeration?” A coy smile touched her lips. “I’m not a woman of vast experience, but I know it can be difficult for a gentleman when passions are roused to such a degree. It can cause an emotional imbalance that men struggle to deal with. After all, it was over so quickly. You’re bound to feel a lingering need for satisfaction.”
“Satisfaction? Rest assured, Mrs Chambers, when I catch the blasted driver of that cart, I’ll string him up outside Newgate and leave him as food for the crows.” Daniel’s hands throbbed at the thought of wringing the rogue’s neck.
She drew her head back sharply and blinked numerous times as if still trying to bat rain from her lashes. “Oh, you’re talking about the incident in Covent Garden. That’s why you want me to go home.”
“What else would I be talking about?”
A pink blush touched her cheeks. “I thought you were referring to our … to the incident in the carriage. You appeared most unsettled by it.”
Unsettled was far too tame a word. Lonely nights spent imagining that exact scenario had failed to prepare him. God, the woman had no idea how she affected him, how much he’d wanted to unbutton his breeches and thrust home, to hear her pretty pants and sighs as he pleasured her until she called out his name.
“Lust can lead to frustration and can occasionally be distressing, but our kiss has nothing to do with my need to take you home.” The comment held a grain of truth. Daphne’s safety was paramount. But he’d spent years learning to suppress his desire for her. Now, having tasted the forbidden fruit, he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it at bay.
“Do you think that’s the first time someone has tried to hurt me?” she snapped.
Anger flared at the thought of anyone laying a hand on her.
Daniel turned on his heels and stomped off to the bedchamber. The whirlwind of emotion in his chest was set to spiral into a raging storm capable of causing total devastation.
She traipsed after him still muttering, but he busied about finding a clean coat and changing his boots, though the image of her ashen face as the cart knocked her to the ground still plagued him. Without saying a word — silence was the only way to guarantee he’d not say something he might regret — he strode past her and waited at the front door.
“You know I’ll not sit at home and wait for your updates.” She sauntered past and climbed into the carriage. “Don’t force me to investigate the matter alone,” she said as he settled into the seat opposite. “I’ve spent far too much time on my own of late. Can we not work together? Can we not put our personal feelings aside and concentrate on the case?”
Her soft, melodic tone spoke to him in a way no other woman ever had. For the umpteenth time, he would have to bow to her whims and demands. The woman was a menace when left to her own devices. And despite being a man of strong conviction, he found he couldn’t refuse Mrs Chambers anything.
Daniel removed his watch and checked the time before replacing it in his pocket. “At this hour, we should find Tranmere at White’s. I’ll call in and speak to him. Then we’ll visit his mistress, Miss Cartwright. Once there, you can leave your stained pelisse in the carriage and accompany me inside. Miss Cartwright’s opinion of what is deemed appropriate hardly matters.”
The smile illuminating her face robbed him of breath.
“You’re a member of White’s?” she said with some surprise.
“Of course not. Do I look like a man with nothing better to do than cross my legs, puff on a cigar and read the newspaper?”
“Then how do you propose to gain entrance?”
There were no doors barred to him. “There’s not a gentleman in the ton who doesn’t owe me a favour. While you harass the modiste for information, I build a list of those in my debt. Ask me for anything, and I can get it for you.”
She tapped her finger to her lips and hummed. “I suspect most ladies would ask for a ruby the size of an apple. Or a chestnut mare with white feet and a pleasant temperament. If I were a woman who believed in whimsical dreams, I’d ask for a home in the countryside, nestled deep in a valley amidst rolling hills.”
Though he knew of her love for the country, she’d never mentioned it before. “Thomas said you grew up in Aylesford, that your families were neighbours. I hear it’s a pretty village, although I’ve never been.”
Thomas had spoken with enthusiasm about long walks by the river, of the quaint church, of time spent enjoying picnics in the meadow. For that reason, Daniel should have hated the countryside, yet he saw it as a symbol of all that was good with the world.
“Oh, it’s so peacefu
l there.” Her eyes glistened like never before as a satisfied sigh left her lips. “When I have the funds, I plan to move out of London,” she said, and Daniel thought the day couldn’t come quick enough. “I want to wake to nothing but the birds’ beautiful song, to breathe clean air, to feel so safe I can leave the bedchamber window open at night.”
“What of your work?” he said relishing the prospect of a peaceful night without worry too. “The case of the missing lamb hardly rouses intrigue.”
She chuckled at that. “This might surprise you, but I hope my work as an enquiry agent will soon be at and end. Truth be told, I’m tired, tired of … well, solving crimes can be exhausting, as well you know.”
Relief coursed through his veins though he couldn’t quite bring himself to punch the air and cheer. Moving to the country meant there’d be no excuse to keep abreast of Mrs Chambers’ cases, no reason to show an interest in her life.
“Then why chastise me for my opinion when you seek a better life for yourself, anyway?”
The question seemed to rouse her ire. “Because I’m a woman who detests the patriarchal dominance too often displayed in our society. Because I will lead the life I choose and no one shall tell me otherwise.”
“What you see as dominance I consider to be a duty to protect.”
Tiny furrows appeared on her brow. “Then you must know I have a problem with the word duty too.”
“Again, I must disagree. Your dedication to your work proves otherwise.”
“You can’t disagree with my opinion, Thorpe. I think I know my own mind, and I was not referring to my work.”
“Then you should speak plainly to avoid confusion.”
“Must you always challenge my position?”
“Must you always assume my intention is to belittle you?”
They both exhaled deeply.
The carriage jerked to a halt on St James’ Street. “Wait here,” he instructed even though she had no choice in the matter. Never had a woman been granted entry into White’s. “I’ll be but a moment.”
“There’s nothing to fear on that score. Dressed like this, I’m not fit to beg for scraps.”
“Yet I get the impression that would not deter you.” Offering a curt nod, he opened the door and jumped down to the pavement. “Mrs Chambers’ safety is a priority,” Daniel shouted to Murphy. “Should you have need to leave, I’ll meet you in the yard of The Cock Inn.”
“Right you are, sir.”
“Stay alert,” Daniel reiterated.
“I’ve the eyes of a hawk to be sure.”
Horbury greeted Daniel at the door, his ragged breathing belying his calm facade. The fellow was employed to cater to the guests’ ridiculous demands. Daniel made good use of the fact, paying him handsomely to run errands, gather and relay information. Consequently, the man was like an obedient dog, rushing to his master’s heels whenever he appeared.
“Is mine the only carriage in town you recognise,” Daniel said with some amusement as Horbury dabbed at the beads of perspiration on his brow.
“Most carriages display golden crests, have liveried footmen in tow and are pulled by chestnut or dapple grey matching pairs.” The fellow nodded to the door leading out onto the street. “Your black stallions and unmarked conveyance could belong to Lucifer, and most people would believe it to be true.”
Creating a menacing aura made men think twice before throwing a punch or drawing a weapon. “So I’m Lucifer now. Have you forgotten who pays the rent on that little terrace house of yours?”
A look of mild panic flashed in Horbury’s eyes. “Then you must forgive a man for his slack mouth.”
Daniel gripped the lean man’s shoulder, his firm fingers settling on nought but bone. “I’ll let it pass, but I need an audience with Lord Tranmere.”
“Lord Tranmere?” Horbury swallowed. “He’s with Mr Trenton, his man of business.”
“Tell him I wish to speak to him privately. It concerns Miss Cartwright. Should he be unable to spare a few minutes, tell him I shall have no option but to call on Lady Tranmere.” Upon witnessing Horbury’s trembling lip, Daniel reached into his coat pocket, removed three sovereigns and thrust them into the man’s palm. “Time is of the essence.”
Horbury scurried off toward the private dining room, leaving Daniel to wait in the hall. A minute passed before Tranmere burst through the door as though the seat of his breeches were on fire.
“What is the meaning of this?” Tranmere, a tall man with greying hair, nostrils wide enough to fill his lungs with a single sniff and a paunch that spoke of overindulgence, came to an abrupt halt before him. “If Georgina wants more money, tell her my hands are tied.”
Witnessing the lord’s agitation, Horbury made a hasty retreat.
“There was an incident at Madame Fontaine’s shop,” Daniel said drawing the pompous lord away from the main entrance to a quiet corner.
“Madame Fontaine? Good. That bloody woman and her loose tongue ruined everything.”
Tranmere was obviously referring to the fact Madame Fontaine had unwittingly informed Lady Tranmere that her husband kept a mistress. “I need to speak to Miss Cartwright. As Madame Fontaine has no record of her address, I want you to give it to me.”
Tranmere’s penetrating stare travelled over Daniel’s face. “If you’re looking for a mistress and plan on making Georgina an offer let me caution you. The woman is a leech intent on sucking every last drop from her victims. My advice is to find another doxy to keep your bed warm.”
In a moment of fancy, Daniel imagined punching Tranmere on the nose, imagined his crisp white shirt stained red. Arrogant lords filled with self-importance gave women like Miss Cartwright licence to behave so shamelessly.
“Her address, my lord, and then I shall leave you to your business.”
“Well, I’ll not give it to you.” Tranmere sounded like a spoilt child.
Daniel shrugged but kept his expression impassive. “You’ve recently invested in Mr Moorcroft’s shipping company upon the advice of your man of business, I hear.”
Tranmere’s jaw dropped. “How the hell do you know? No one knows of it, other than Mr Trenton. Besides, what has that to do with Miss Cartwright?”
“You should know that Moorcroft specialises in illegal opium smuggling from Calcutta to China. You should be aware that his nefarious dealings are well-documented. In the wrong hands, the evidence could be damning for all those involved.”
Tranmere’s limp hand flew to his mouth. “But Trenton assured me—”
“Then the question you should ask is can your man be trusted? My advice would be to find a more lucrative yet legal method to increase your coffers. But before you go, you will give me Miss Cartwright’s address.”
Tranmere still appeared somewhat dazed.
“Let me be clear,” Daniel said. “The information I have imparted is worth a damn sight more than the address of a courtesan. Do not make me regret my decision. During my visit, I might persuade the lady to stop pestering you for money.”
At that, Tranmere’s shoulders sagged. “Georgina refuses to leave the house I rented for her in Broad Street.”
“And the number?”
“Five. Number five.”
Daniel inclined his head. “Then I shall leave you to your meeting. Should you need to hire an agent to investigate your man of business, Horbury has my details.”
Once back in the carriage, Daphne wasted no time in demanding to know every word exchanged.
“Did Tranmere say anything else?” With wide expressive eyes, she sat forward. “How did he react when you mentioned the theft?”
“I made no mention of the stolen dresses. A man who keeps a mistress thinks with his … with a part of his anatomy that isn’t his brain.” Tranmere would bed Miss Cartwright again if the opportunity presented itself. Daniel had noted the flash of jealousy in the fool’s eyes when he’d asked for the courtesan’s address. “While the woman is intent on making life difficult for Tranmere, I susp
ect he could still be won over by her charms.”
“But did he tell you where you might find Miss Cartwright?”
Daniel nodded. “We’ll make a quick call at her residence in Broad Street and then I’ll take you home.”
Only then could they get to the matter of the real case, the one that required a more thorough, in-depth investigation. Indeed, the burning question was who the hell wanted Daphne Chambers dead and why?
“A quick call?” she asked curiously. “So you’re confident you’ll gain a confession despite the lack of evidence?”
“A scorned lover is the prime suspect in any case. You know that.”
Chapter 8
“Tell your mistress that Lord Tranmere sent us and we must make the offer in person.”
The maid’s terrified gaze scanned the breadth of Mr Thorpe’s chest. Her wide eyes flitted to his beard which she appeared to find equally alarming.
“We need but five minutes of her time,” Daphne said to ease the servant’s fears.
The girl nodded. “Wait ‘ere a moment.”
They stood on the doorstep while she scurried off to alert her mistress.
“Do you think Miss Cartwright will see us?” Daphne could not imagine Thorpe taking no for an answer. “If not, we must wait until she leaves the house and accost her then.”
“Miss Cartwright will see us,” Thorpe insisted. “The woman is desperate and will be curious to hear our offer.”
The maid returned, opened the door wide and waved for them to enter. She escorted them to the drawing room where they found Miss Cartwright wearing nothing but a silk wrapper, her golden hair draped over one shoulder as she lay stretched out on the chaise.