For the Love of a Soldier

by Victoria Morgan

  Gingerly, Alex sat up. If she kept her movements slow, her head remained on her shoulders and did not topple off as she half expected. She clutched the glass with both hands and braced herself to voice the question she couldn’t avoid. “And Kendall? He also survived the…the accident?”

  The maid waved her hand as if to brush her concerns aside. “No worries there. ’Twas Lord Kendall that sent me to ye. Would take more than a tipped carriage ta harm him. ’E’s survived far worse.” Her voice lowered and she spoke in hushed tones. “The ’orrors of the war and all.”

  Alex sagged back into the bed. The weight of her burdens might cause her to stagger, but shouldering the news of a man’s murder would have dropped her to her knees.

  She lifted the brandy to her lips and drank. Liquid fire burned a scorching path down her throat. Bolting up, she blinked furiously as her eyes watered, and a spasm of coughs erupted from her. She clutched her head. An ease for aches and pains indeed. One would forget their own mother if they imbibed enough of this potent brand.

  Needing to keep her wits clear, she set the glass on the bedside table and froze. Her lips parted at the sight of her bare arm.

  Good Lord, was she naked?

  She snatched her hand back to press it to her chest and exhaled at the feel of fabric against her breasts. She glanced down. She wore a deep royal blue satin nightgown, whisper thin and baby soft against her skin. Of the finest quality, it was rich, decadent, and designed to please a man. The round curves of her breasts peeked above the plunging neckline. Heat burned her cheeks, and she drew the covers up to her neck.

  Kendall. Womanizer and rake.

  How dare he! How dare he give her one of his mistress’s castoffs as if she’d step into the role. Her memory was fast returning and with it, her relief at Kendall’s survival faded. He may have discovered her to be a woman, but he had yet to discern what sort of woman she was. She was most certainly not this kind of woman, or rather his kind of woman.

  Not now. Not ever.

  “Miss? Miss, ye be all right? Ye be lookin’ a mite flushed.”

  Alex started at the voice. “Ah, yes, it’s the brandy.”

  “Ach, I shouldn’t ’ave given it ta ye on an empty stomach. It’s a mite early, but I’ll do some foragin’. See if I can scrounge up a wee morsel. A bit of meat on ye is wot ye need. Ye be skin and bones. Lie back and rest for now.” Molly fluffed the pillows behind Alex and tucked the covers securely about her before she left. Food in Molly’s world was clearly medicinal, as her stout build attested.

  Alex closed her eyes, cursing her stomach’s betraying growl at the mention of food. Pity a person had to eat. Poverty would be so much easier if one could forgo that expense.

  She shook her head, bemused. Clearly, the accident had addled her wits. She winced as her fingers probed the bump above her hairline. She ran her hands through the tangled strands of her hair, wondering what had happened to her wig and clothes, wondering what Kendall had thought when he discovered her to be a woman.

  She hoped he’d choked. At the very least, he should suffer wrenching guilt over his callous treatment of her in the carriage. She squirmed at the memory of his shoving her into the cab, his hand bold and intimate upon her buttocks. Her cheeks burning, she curled her fingers around her upper arm where Kendall had handled her. His grip had been punishing before he eased it, as if he had sensed her frailty.

  Just when Kendall appeared ready to wring her neck, those gray eyes nearly flaying the skin from her with their razor-sharp scrutiny, he had retreated. Of course, with her cowering before him, Alex hadn’t presented him with a fair fight. But still. The man had been filled with a boiling cauldron of anger, yet it had never overflowed onto her.

  A seasoned soldier, Kendall might be cold, hard, and unsympathetic, but he possessed control. He would not hurt her. He had proven that tonight.

  The man baffled her. Regardless of his distrust of her, he had kept her safe. And that was something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Not since leaving home over a year ago.

  Her eyes drifted over the room and settled on a garment draped over the end of the bed. Recognizing her evening jacket, she leaned forward to draw it to her only to realize it was not hers. A familiar masculine scent identified its owner. Kendall. After a brief hesitation, she slid it on, drew it closed, and folded back the long sleeves covering her hands. It felt as if she were enfolded in the man’s arms, held safe.

  She froze, the intimacy blindsiding her. The doorknob rattled and Molly returned. Alex silently thanked her interruption, not wishing to be alone with her betraying thoughts, for they tread into forbidden ground.

  The maid carried a tray and wore a broad smile. “Cook is a cheap, untrusting old biddy and locks up most of the cabinets.” Molly snorted. “A body would starve on her rations.” She winked at Alex. “But I managed ta dig up some bread and cheese and best of all, fresh custard. Now miss, that should return the pounds ta ye.”

  The maid had heated up a cup of cocoa and Alex cradled the steaming mug in her hands as she sipped, forcing herself to wait until Molly departed to attack the food. It was a feast, and her mouth watered just looking at it. She planned to regain her strength, rein in her straying thoughts, and later deal with Kendall. Much, much later she hoped, and not on an empty stomach.

  When the custard crossed her lips, she couldn’t resist closing her eyes to savor it. She settled back into the plush pillows of the feather bed and for the first time that evening, a smile curved her lips.

  “Molly must have told you I died.”

  Alex jumped, blinking at the sight of Kendall standing in the doorway. He leaned his tall figure against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The bedside lamp cast flickering shadows over his handsome features, but she didn’t need much light to know those slate gray eyes were locked on her. She swallowed, returned her fork to her plate, and hastily wiped her mouth. “No, of course not.”

  Straightening, Kendall closed the door behind him and strolled to her bedside to inspect her platter of food. “Ah, custard. Molly jeopardized life and limb to venture into Cook’s domain, but considering Molly believes food is the cure for all ailments, she’d risk it.” He lifted his eyes to hers and his voice lowered. “She might be right, for here you are awake, not looking like death warmed over, and smiling, Mr. Daniels.”

  Alex’s hand closed the collar of his jacket, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Kendall’s linen shirt clung to his broad shoulders. A stray lock of hair curled over his forehead and his lips pressed together as he studied her. In the dim light and towering over her, he looked even more formidable than he had in the carriage.

  She shifted, feeling as if his perusal stripped her bare. Alex cursed him and his effect on her pulse rate. She no longer feared Kendall would physically harm her, but he was still too handsome, too familiar, and too close for her comfort.

  “How is your head?”

  His obvious concern for her welfare caught her off guard. “Fine, as long as I don’t move.”

  “Then we’ll have to make sure you don’t.” His eyes dropped to her hands clutching his jacket closed. “Nice robe.”

  She caught the gleam of amusement in his eyes and stiffened. “Thanks to you, I have no robe and no clothes.” She lifted her chin. “I’d appreciate it if you returned them immediately, as I’d prefer to change out of your mistress’s castoffs and be on my way.”

  She spoke quickly, fearing she’d lose courage if she hesitated. “Tonight’s accident confirms I spoke the truth. We both could have been killed, so you can’t suspect me of being part of the plot against you.” She lowered her hands and sat up straighter, hoping she presented a braver front than she felt. Like a card game, no tells.

  Kendall raised a brow. “Yes, you’re definitely much better.” He slid a chair from the corner of the room and drew it beside the bed. He spun it around, straddled it, and rested his arms along the back. “Are you quite sure you’re wearing a castoff? Why don’t you re
turn my coat and let me be the judge of that?”

  Her grip tightened on his jacket collar as she sank back into the pillows. There was something different about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Of course, he was no longer furious with her. He appeared more relaxed, but there was something else. She realized she was staring at him, and when she saw his lips twitch, she flushed.

  “No?” He raised a brow. “Fine, keep the coat; just don’t wear it on your next visit to Hammond’s card room.”

  He was baiting her. That was the difference. The other Kendall would never have teased her. He didn’t possess a sense of humor. Her eyes widened, wary of this new tactic, this different Kendall. What was his game?

  In a flash, he became serious. “While it appears you spoke the truth about what you overheard tonight, you still lied about so much more, Miss Daniels, if that is in fact your name?”

  She bristled. “That wasn’t a lie. It was but a simple deception to earn a few quid. No harm done, other than to the gents’ deep pockets and perhaps their dignity, as no man likes to be bested by a woman. However, that would only be if I had won, but as you are well aware, I did not.”

  “Filmore’s an ass and Chandler has no dignity. But what about you?” He nodded toward her. “Don’t you have a care for your own reputation? You risk scandal should your deception be discovered. That damage is harmful and irreparable.”

  Once again, those gray eyes narrowed on her. She stifled her retort that she didn’t give a scrap for society’s judgment. Her gaze dropped to her platter of food, and she recalled the deep, gut-wrenching cravings during those times when she’d stretched out a single loaf of bread for days. She no longer lived in the society to which Kendall referred. In her world, a sterling reputation couldn’t put food in one’s belly, clothes on one’s back, or a roof over one’s head, so what good was it?

  She clenched her jaw, unable to hide the bitterness coloring her words. “Some risks are worth taking.”

  This time when she met his eyes, she didn’t look away. The silence stretched as he continued to study her in his infuriating manner, as if he could see through her bravado.

  It was then she noticed his eyes weren’t a solid slate gray, but ringed by a pale blue circle and unusually long lashes. His features were all sharp angles, his cheekbones chiseled into the hard contours of his striking face. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she noticed his top lip was fuller than his bottom, softer, almost sensual. Suddenly those lips curved into a smile, a bright beaming flash.

  She sucked in her breath at the impact of it. It softened the hard lines of his features and did disturbing things to her body. Her pulse rate spiked, heat suffused her cheeks and slid up her neck.

  “Some risks are indeed worth taking, on that we are in agreement,” Kendall said, his eyes warm.

  Disconcerted, Alex shifted. There were risks she was willing to take, lines she was willing to cross, and there were those she was not. Kendall stood firmly on the other side of the line, deep in forbidden territory. He was a soldier wielding many weapons, all of them dangerous. She needed to get far away from him. But her traitorous body didn’t move, couldn’t move. Kendall held her captive without laying a finger on her.

  Suddenly his smile vanished, his brows lowered, and suspicion clouded his eyes. “You’re not dodging debt collectors or running from the magistrate or a vengeful husband, are you?”

  Surprised by his sudden mood change, it took a moment before his words registered. “Certainly not,” she protested. “And unlike yourself, no one wants me dead. I’m also not married, so that is one less vengeful husband for you to worry about.”

  He cocked a brow. “You’re sounding more and more like yourself. Good. We’ll get to your story later, or not, if you so choose. As long as you are not wanted by the law or involved in anything illegal, I won’t force the issue—yet.” Again he peered at her, letting his words hang in a question.

  “I’m not.”

  “I’ll have to trust you on that, for as you say, some risks are worth taking. Now if you’re still willing to gamble on the odds, I’d like to raise the stakes.”

  She stilled. What was he talking about? She wasn’t crossing that line. No words or devastating smiles could change her mind. She rubbed her temple, struggling to deduce his intent. “What are you talking about?”

  “I want your help in apprehending the men planning my murder.”

  “What?” she breathed. “Me? But I’ve told you all I know. I don’t—”

  “You hold the only intelligence I have. I can’t afford to lose that. Hence, I can’t afford to lose you.”

  His words were like a strong wave, knocking her feet out from beneath her. In its wake, a cold, damp chill washed over her.

  Kendall stood and began to pace the room. “You have something I want, and I have something you want.”

  “And what, besides my clothes, can that possibly be?” she said, her eyes narrowed.

  He stopped and faced her, curling his hands around the footboard and leaning forward, his expression intense. “Money. You need it enough to risk scandal and expulsion from society. I have money, my own as well as the money I returned to you, which, if you recall, you did vow to repay.”

  She raised her chin. “You said you didn’t want it.”

  “I don’t need it.” He corrected her. “You can keep those funds if you are willing to earn more by assisting me in this investigation. I will reimburse you for your time. Otherwise”—he shrugged—“I’m afraid I’ll have to call in your debt as my bargaining chip.”

  She raked him with a contemptuous look. “Your word means nothing to you, so why should I trust you?”

  “I’m trusting you,” he pointed out. “I’m willing to forfeit your wager, but are you? Do you truly wish to be in my debt?” He straightened and peered down at her. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes to be indebted to anyone. You chose to gamble for higher stakes and earn your own fortune, rather than have another bail you out. You didn’t enter a profession suitable for a woman to earn an income, such as a governess or a paid companion. Well, if you want to play like a man, you have to pay like a man.”

  Anger suffused her. Damn him. He didn’t know anything about her, her choices, or the risks she was willing to take.

  She had spoken the truth when she had told him that neither the law nor a vengeful husband pursued her. She sought to escape her greedy, mercenary uncle, her late father’s brother. He never would have allowed Alex to step into a respectable household as a paid companion or a governess. He had shut off those avenues when Alex had thwarted his plans for her and fled her home, barely managing to escape with the tattered remains of her hide. She wasn’t willing to risk it again by entering into a murder investigation.

  “If you assist me,” he continued. “I will pay you for your time. You will be well compensated, or at least have enough monies to keep you out of gambling debt for the foreseeable future.”

  She ignored the unwelcome reminder of her recent card loss and struggled to digest his words. For someone starving, the offer of a steady income was like being delivered a full-course meal. She had to swallow before she could manage a response. “What? Why?”

  “Consider it an exchange of sorts.” He shrugged. “My life, for yours.” He paused and his gaze leveled on hers, his gray eyes darkening. “And after last night, you as well as I are aware of the dangers inherent in assisting me. I will do all in my power to keep you safe, but someone is trying to kill me, and they don’t give a damn if their murderous course sacrifices anyone else. You need to be aware of the risks you are facing in your choice to assist me. It’s another reason why I’m willing to compensate you so generously.”

  She blinked, those horrible moments in the coach before her world went black flashing before her. She pressed her hand to her temple, her thoughts spiraling. Reviewing her ill-fated gambling foray and her own perilous situation, she wondered if she would be exchanging one form of danger for a
nother? Some risks were worth taking, but at what price? Toss in Kendall’s lethal smile and another danger assailed her. Her eyes snapped to his. “I can’t be seduced. I won’t be your mistress.”

  His lips parted. For the first time in all of their confrontations, she had caught him off guard. After an awkward silence, he collected himself. “I don’t believe I asked for that, but fair enough.” His eyes drifted over her, a teasing light in them. “Perhaps when we know each other better.”

  Heat suffused her. She drew the covers to her neck, again unsure of this Kendall. His relaxed features, soft and amused, stirring something beneath her breast.

  His expression once again became serious. “So, Miss Daniels, if that is your name, do we have a deal or not?”

  She struggled to keep up with his quicksilver mood changes, but she recognized the gleam of challenge in his eyes. He held the advantage now, but she might surprise him. It was past time for her to do just that.

  She lifted her chin, straightened up, and met his damn dare. She had risked much this past year and survived with little money and no protection. Kendall offered her both. She liked those odds—and she wanted his money. She had plans for it. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

  Kendall’s smile returned, quick and sharp.

  Alex caught her breath, cursing it and him as her words echoed back to her.

  Some risks might be worth taking, but at what price?

  Chapter Six

  GARRETT noted the slim thrust of his adversary’s jaw and the determined glint in her eyes, and nearly shook his head. He hadn’t played her wrong. She had mettle all right, sharp as steel and strong.

  For now he’d settle for her willing participation in his plans, for they coincided with his. He vowed to eventually pry Miss Daniels’s true identity from her. The enemy you know is better than the one you don’t. Or was the expression, keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Either way, he was keeping her.