Alistair growled in frustration. "You go back now or, or, prepare to face the consquences."
"And those might be what, exactly, apart from getting killed?" she said sharply.
"Me tiddling you in the carriage until you scream."
She grinned. "Drat, and I was hoping it would be a futter."
Alistair tried not to swallow his tongue. "Not in the carriage, pet. Not for our first time, no. I'm planning a nice soft bed for that."
She blushed but said in a sultry whisper, "It sounds grand, Alistair. It’s all agreed then. So come back inside and—"
"Oh no, you’re not getting me to—"
"But you just said—"
He strolled on, but she ran after him and grasped his arm. He found a cab about three corners up, and she leapt up into it before he could even attempt to leave her behind.
"All right then," he said, mock playfully. "You asked for it!"
The tiddle nearly did into a futter, the couple were so heated. Every kiss and caress was so compelling, it left them both wanting more.
Viola was stunned at her own boldness over all they had shared since they had met, but as she once again helped him to a soakin release with her nimble fingers, she began to revel in his own power as a woman.
She wasn't a whore, had no intention of ever selling herself to any man for the sake of worldly considerations. But there was certainly nothing wrong in being generous to a man who had gone out of his way to try to help her and her brother, even at the risk of his own life.
Fate had brought the together, and as a galaxy of stars finished exploding in her head as she rode his hard thigh to her own fulfillment, well, some things were just meant to be, perfect.
She was just coming to her senses when the cab driver announced that they had arrived, and demanded his payment in loud stentorian tones.
Viola quickly adjusted her clothing and tried to do something with her hair, which he had tugged out of its usual tidy bun at the nape of her neck and tumbled down her back in a sensual blond cascade.
Alistair fumbled in his pockets for money, then checked his own clothing to make sure he was decent once more. He paid and they descended, him helping her down with his usual air of propriety and concern which made her marvel at her good fortune in having met such a respectable and decent man.
He made her feel like a princess whenever he was near. And though their meeting had been through his nightmare, she dared to dream that all the had shared thus far might well be the answer to all her own girlish fantasies about falling in love.
But practical considerations needed to be dealt with first before they could ever hope for a happy future together. Sebastian might well be safe in George's care, but there was still a bounty on both their heads and they were standing on a London street in broad daylight.
Only after the cab left did she have the presence of mind to say, "Perhaps we should have kept him on hand in case we needed to get away quickly."
"It’s all right. Besides, we wouldn’t have wanted him. He picked us up on the south side of the river. We don’t want him to leave a trail."
She noticed he barely looked at her. She raised up on tiptoe and forced him to gaze in her eyes. "There’s nothing to be ashamed of. It was all mutual. Really."
"It’s just, well, you’re so young, a virgin."
"Not for much longer," she said with a pert look.
"That’s just the point. After what we just did I may well have ruined you, and—"
"Don’t even say that."
"I have no experience of a proper, solid loving relationship, and nothing to offer you except danger."
"Which is going to increase by the minute if we don’t do our errand and get back under cover," she said, gripping his hand hard and leading him to the wall of the bank. "So we can discuss our love affair or whatever it is later in the safety of The Three Bells. Right now, give me that pistol. I’ll wait outside here in the shadows."
"No, you come with me a minute. You were right. We’ll hail a cab and have it wait."
It took them about five minutes to secure one, and Viola grew more and more nervous with every passing second they lingered.
When the vehicle finally stopped, he made Viola stay inside whilst he went in to ask for his bank manager.
He got an uneasy prickle in the base of his spine as he was told Mr. Jenks no longer worked there. He had seen him only last week.
Even worse was when he was informed that his account had been closed, but that if he just waited he could see someone about reinstituting it.
Damn. All his money.
And now several men were approaching from the four corners of the room. Alistair didn’t like the odds. On the pretext of being happy to wait, he made a dash for it, hurdling over one of the benches for customers and out into the marble foyer, and from there out into the street.
"Go, go! Just drive!" he shouted to the cab, as he heard the pounding of feet close behind him.
Viola swung the door wide and offered him their weapon.
He snatched the pistol and shot his first pursuer in the leg. He fell to the ground, sending the three men rushing behind him tumbling as well.
Alistair leaped into the open doorway and bellowed, "Go on, go on," and prayed that they wouldn't get snarled up in traffic.
Once he had swung inside and shut the door, he looked out to make sure they weren't being pursued. Satisfied that they were alone once more, he pocketed the pistol and gathered Viola into his arms.
"Oh damn, I should have listened to you," he panted against her cheek.
"It’s all right," she said, returning the embrace. "We’re just going to have to get to Covent Garden, get a cab there, keep switching vehicles until we’re sure we’re not being followed, and get back to The Three Bells."
He pulled her into his arms. "I’m sorry."
"Just so long as you don’t dare suggest that we go to the insurer’s," she said with a wry look.
He shook his head, his expression grim. "No, love. I’ve learnt my lesson, I promise."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
An hour and a half later brought Viola and Alistair back on foot through Elephant and Castle to The Three Bells. George was waiting there for them, fuming.
"Of all the hare-brained—"
Alistair raised his hands to forestall the tirade. "I know, I know!"
"And you, Viola. Do you want to die? I come back to bring you to see Sebastian, and find you traipsing all over London with this, this dead man?"
"Not dead yet," Viola was unable to resist saying. She caught Alistair’s eye and they both blushed.
George steamed with jealousy. "Great. Acting like a pair of lust-filled lovers. That’s really going to solve this mystery."
"Well, it wasn’t like we had anything else to do in the carriage," Viola said with a giggle. She was rapidly approaching hysteria at all that had happened, the strain of her on-edge emotions getting the better of her at last.
Her brother’s friend was more livid than she had ever seen him. "Enough already! Sebastian is injured, Logan Villiers is dead."
"Dead?" Alistair gasped.
"Aye, as well as your client Gribbens and your servants, remember? Not to mention the fact that your colleague Philip Marshall and his family could all be dead as well in that fire!"
Viola sobered at once and looked at Alistair, whose face had closed up like a clam.
"So love's young dream is all very well and fine, but there are lives at stake here. All of ours. So I am going to say this one more time and God help the pair of you if you dare to disobey! You’re not to leave The Three Bells without me again, do you hear? Short of the building falling down around your ears, that is."
"Yes, George," Viola said meekly, knowing any other response could well mean losing his protection forever.
"Now the clients will be arriving soon for the night. Get the hell upstairs and don’t open the door for anyone. I’m taking the long way around to Philip Marshall’s house. Do no
thing until I come back. Maybe if I think you can be trusted to act sensibly, I’ll let you see your brother, Viola. Is that clear?"
"As a mountain lake," she said calmly.
George gave a last curt nod and stormed out.
"I’m sorry," Alistair said quietly when he had fone. "He's right about all of it. I should have done more to keep us both safe."
"No need to be sorry. It was my decision to come with you. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a little rest, some time to sort out my own thoughts and feelings. I think I’m going to go sit with Emma for a little while."
Alistair nodded. "All right. Whatever you think best."
He went up the back stairs to her room, while she went in search of her friend.
"Gosh, you made him mad. George was fit to be tied. I just hope it was worth it," Emma remarked when they had settled in front of the fire in her small room.
Viola shook her head. "It was a fool’s errand. But he would have been killed for sure if I hadn’t gone. George says Sebastian is all right, but I still think we’re running out of time. The bounty on Alistair’s head, the warrant out for my arrest. If we’re separated—"
"George isn’t going to throw you out, if that’s what you’re worried about."
"No, but he might well do Alistair," Viola said with a sigh. "If he thinks it's too dangerous—"
"Then tell him he can’t bully you. He has no right. Not to mention the fact that you’ll go with Alistair."
She nodded. "Yes, I would. I just can’t believe, I, well, want him so much. Adore him. I mean, I thought I admired and respected my fiance. I not only like and respect Alistair, I can barely stop myself from tearing his clothes off."
Emma grinned with delight. "Great news. The ice princess thaws at last."
Her face fell. "Oh, but surely I’m not—"
"Just a figure of speech. Blond hair, your cool good looks, don’t you know. Go after what you want, and get it."
"But can you tell me how to, er, well, get it, and to keep it?"
"You know the basics. The keeping will be easy. Just be the woman you are. He adores you. Any fool can see that," the older woman advised with a kind smile.
"I’m a little bit wary though, about the whole physical side. Not to mention wondering what a gent like that sees in me. How we’re going to cope with no money, job, home—"
Emma give her a knowing look. "You have all three for the present, so long as you stay here, and of course, you're well provisioned for the future if you ever decide to leave London. It's only Sebastian that's been keeping you here. But maybe the time has come to give all of this up. I mean, after all, it's not as if we're at war any more—"
"Emma, you're saying too much—"
"Aye, I'm sorry. All I mean is, you've all done enough you’re your country. We all have. It's time to start thinking about a normal life. A fresh start. If you leave London, well, what's stopping you?"
"Sebastian, for the minute," she said with a sigh, sipping the tea her friend had poured for her. "He's probably in no condition to travel, and you know him. He won't rest until he gets to the bottom of what's been going on, no matter how dangerous it is."
"Aye, true enough. And I have the feeling your new gent will be the same."
She shivered. "I can hardly blame him. So many dead, with no answers, only questions. Aye, he'll never rest until he avenges his friends and servants, and I doubt very much he'll be willing to give up the life he's built for himself no matter how much he might care about me. So as tempting as it is to dream about starting over again elsewhere, neither of them will leave. So here I have to stay."
"Tell him to try to not to worry about money then. You’ll just have to support Alistair until this resolves itself."
Viola nodded."
"Why don’t you head on up? I’ll bring you some supper. George could be a while, and the men will be here soon. I don’t want anyone to see me going up the back stairs."
Viola grinned. "All right, this is your nice way of telling us to have a good time. Giving us your blessing, as it were."
"Unless you want to earn a fortune down here in one of the rooms for your maidenhead," Emma said in a mocking tone.
"No, thank you." She shuddered.
"Good. Then just get on upstairs, and do what comes naturally. And don’t worry, the pain is nothing compared to the pleasure if you just relax. And if he doesn’t know much about women, then you can both come see me for lessons."
She winked and headed downstairs, leaving Viola to make her way up to her room on her own.
Alistair was desultorily reading a copy of the paper George had left in her room when she arrived.
"Reading the reports on our crimes?" she asked softly.
His handsome lips twisted into a wry smile. "They certainly make me sound pretty dangerous. You don’t get off too lightly either."
"I’m sorry."
"So am I." He slapped the paper down on the scarred wooden table angrily. "If I had just got there ten minutes sooner I would have caught the murdering bastard in the act."
She sat on his lap and snuggled against him. "And might have ended up dead yourself. No, please, Alistair, don’t think that way. It’ll be fine, you’ll see."
They caressed each other for a time until the heat grew too much to bear. Both ached for the other, but it was too soon, not quite the right time, and Viola also warned that her friend would be bringing food up on a moment.
So they broke off their passionate kisses for a time and took turns reading the paper and some poems, and fed each other from the tray Emma had thoughtfully provided, until night came down dark.
Then they closed the shutters and lit their candles, and sat waiting almost nervously for George’s footsteps.
At last they heard his heavy tread, the creak of the third stair.
George knocked and waited for them to tell him to come in.
Viola could tell from the look in his eyes the news was not good.
"It will be in the papers tomorrow. One very large man, one small woman and three children, two boys and a girl from the little left of their clothes. I’m sorry, Alistair, they didn’t make it."
"No, they can’t all be dead! No, no!" Alistair shrieked like one demented. "God, the children! No, what have I done? What have I done?"
Viola gripped his shoulders hard and heaved him back into his chair. "You haven’t done anything, Alistair, do you hear me? It was the bastards who set all those fires."
"He worked for me and I got him killed. I’m going to find the buggers who did this, and when I do—" He was struggling to stand once more, and she had to lean her full weight on him to try to stop him.
Viola knew she was unequal to the task, and shot George a desperate look.
He moved his solid bulk in front of the door in case Alistair decided to make a dash for it.
She poured some water into a tumbler. When she was sure Alistair wasn’t looking, she sprinkled some valerian into it and stirred it with her little finger.
"Alistair, calm down and have some water," she urged, pressing the glass into his hand. "All of this fury and self-reproach can do no good."
"It can help me find them, bring them to justice," Alistair rasped furiously, pounding the table with the flat of his hand. But he did take the glass with his other, and one long gulp.
"Alistair, think for a moment. You’re wanted for murder! What good can you possibly do at this point? If you go out there, try to contact any one of your friends, they will track you down, arrest you. You’ll be in even more danger.
"If they murdered Gribbens and tried to kill my brother right in the middle of Newgate they can do the same to you. Then their deaths really will go unavenged. And yours too. They’ll have won, whoever they are."
He tossed the rest of the water off in one gulp, splashing his cheeks and chin slightly. Seeing his hand was trembling badly, she fished out her handkerchief and reached up slowly to wipe his face. The tender contact was more than he c
ould bear, and he crumpled forward into her arms, his cheek slumping against her waist.
George helped catch him and laid him out on the bed. He nodded to her once and left her alone in the snug little blue and cream room with the man who had become her whole world ever since they’d met.
Viola held him tightly against her bosom as he wept as though his heart would break. Mercifully the sedative began to take effect quite quickly. She heaved a sigh of relief as his sobbing evened out into slow steady breath.
The Rakehell Regency Romance Series Boxed Set 5 Page 80