A Sinner No More

by Kelly Boyce

  She wanted to look up, but she didn’t want to interrupt the closeness binding them together. “You spent all these years looking for him?”

  “Yes, of course. It was the sole purpose of everything I did. How could it not be? Until I find him, you remain in danger. I could not allow it. So I collected what information I could. I bought The Devil’s Lair and used people’s weaknesses to extract information. You’d be surprised what people will reveal if it keeps them one step ahead of their own ruin. I traded this information for more information, or I used it to extort what I wanted to know. Along the way, I made a reputation for myself as a ruthless, heartless bastard. To my face, they referred to me as Lord Hawksmoor. Behind my back they called me The Hawk.”

  “It sounds like a rather lonely existence.”

  “I suppose it was. But after what I had done, I wasn’t fit for much else. I immersed myself in the darkness and was quite content to remain there until I rooted out Lord T.”

  “Did you have no friends or allies?”

  “A few. Lord Blackbourne, for one. I think we both understood what it was like to have blood on our hands, to stand on the brink of an abyss with the edge crumbling at our feet. He is the one who first referred to me simply as Hawk. He and his closest friends had a habit of giving each other nicknames, and while I never considered myself part of his close inner circle, I valued his friendship immensely. Though I likely would have died before ever admitting it.”

  At this, Madalene looked up. “I have met Lord Blackbourne, he seems quite a happy and settled man. It is hard to imagine he dwelled in such a dark place.”

  Hawk smiled down at her but the ever-present sadness that lurked in his eyes burned deep. “He did. We both did.”

  “And do you dwell there still?”

  His thumb caressed the curve of her cheekbone then found her mouth, tracing the edge of her bottom lip and coaxing the embers of her longing into a raging fire with one simple touch. Her heart stalled and she watched breathless as the sadness in his gaze transformed into something else. Something far more intense than she could find words for.

  “Sometimes,” he whispered. “And other times, someone quite lovely and beyond compare shines a light in and chases the darkness away.”

  He spoke of her. Even without saying her name, she knew. Her heart swelled. How she wished to be that light for him every day. It could not be, logically she understood this, but her heart recoiled from the hateful fact.

  Madalene lifted herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his mouth, unable to resist the unfathomable need that had welled inside of her, building each day she spent in his presence, and increasing tenfold during each moment without him. He had become a secret wish that had lain untilled within her since the first day he had spoken to her, befriended her, believed in her. In the years they were separated, she had tucked those feelings away, but fate had brought him back to her. And in doing so, her affection had been resurrected, the tender infatuation of a young girl growing and strengthening into something much deeper. Love.

  His arms wrapped tightly around her and pulled her into him, his mouth searching hers, gentle at first then with a hunger that matched her own. Unbidden and unrestrained, she let herself go, allowed herself to be swept up into the kiss, into him. She had never experienced anything so glorious. She had been kissed before, but they were chaste pecks of courtships that never went anywhere. Hawk’s kisses were something else entirely. They were everything. They were the air she breathed. The blood that flowed in her veins. The love that beat in her heart.

  How had she gone this long never knowing such wonder and excitement existed? And what would she do now that she did know? Would she be able to simply let him walk out of her life again? No. She would not. Could not. The idea was inconceivable, the thought of her life without him a vast landscape of gray, void of any color or life.

  One of his hands slid to her hips, lower. He pulled her against him and through the muslin of her dress, she could feel his need. It thrilled her. Scared her. Beckoned her. She wanted to give herself to him, to let the clothing they wore slip away until she could feel his skin upon hers, feel what it was like to be filled by him, entangled in such a way there was no beginning or end.

  Hawk broke the kiss and loosened his hold, then quickly released her and took a step back. The absence of him rushed up to greet her and she longed to pull him back. His chest rose and fell as he dragged a hand through his dark hair, leaving deep grooves.

  “Forgive me.” His breath came in ragged gasps. “I should not have—”

  She cut him off with a sharp shake of her head. “No. It was I. I kissed you. I wanted to. Do you not want…” Her words trailed off.

  “No! I mean yes. I do. Desperately.” He shook his head and took a step toward her, shortening the gap that lay between them. “It is only that…I suppose I fear forcing myself on you…after what my brother had done.”

  “But you are nothing like your brother! What he did was madness. Violence. You would never hurt me or force me to do something I did not want. I know that. I trust you.”

  “I don’t.” He gave her a wry smile that stilled her heart.

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because I quite lose my head when I kiss you. All good sense flies straight out the window and all I can think of is—” He stopped and let out a hard breath. “Well, never mind what I think. Suffice to say, it is best if I do not make a habit out of kissing you.”

  His posture straightened and his shoulders pulled back, a small movement that spoke volumes. He meant to place distance between them. It broke her heart that he compared himself to his brother in such a way, but she did not know how to fix it. She did not know how to get him past the horrible memories of that night, of the blame he placed upon his shoulders or the guilt that lived in his heart. She wanted to tell him she felt safer with him than anyone else, but she sensed such a claim would only make the burden he carried heavier, the task he’d set more daunting.

  She searched for something to say, something to breach the tension that had crawled between them.

  “What is your plan now that you have returned to London?”

  “The same as it has always been,” he said, a resignation in the tone of his voice that had not been there before. “To find the man my brother referred to as Lord T and stop him from hurting anyone else. From hurting you.”

  Madalene did not know what to say. He had dedicated his life to protecting her, to protecting anyone who may become a victim to this mysterious lord bent on preying on helpless victims for the sake of a sick game. It was a noble cause, and a part of her could not help but feel awestruck by his diligence, his willingness to give up everything to succeed. But the other part of her, the part that wanted everything for him that had been denied, cried out in sorrow at what his life had become because of it. Stilted, somehow. Reduced to such a narrow focus that it hardly resembled a life at all. In a sense, it was as if his brother had won.

  “But what of you? Do you not want anything for yourself?”

  He looked at her for a long, quiet moment before offering her a sad smile. “Nothing I am at liberty to have, I’m afraid.”

  He stepped forward and took her hand, turning it to expose the sensitive skin of her wrist. He pressed his lips against her pulse point causing it to beat erratically.

  “I will leave you here. I should not be seen with you. I fear it may prove detrimental to your reputation, given mine.”

  “Hawk—” It was the first time she had said his new name out loud. He was right. It did suit better than the name bestowed upon him by his parents, somehow blending the parts of the Thomas she had loved with aspects of The Hawk he had needed to survive.

  He interrupted her before she could continue. “Are you able to find your way back to the great room?”

  “Yes, but—” But what? Say it. Tell him! “Please don’t go. I do not care what others think.”

  Again the sad smile, cutting into her hea
rt. She knew he would refuse her even before he spoke the words. “I must. It is for the best.”

  Hawk turned and she watched as his lean frame slipped through the door of the small salon leaving in his absence a gaping hollowness that crept in and overtook her inch by inch. Madalene closed her eyes, unable to move, afraid if she did, she would somehow increase the distance he had purposely placed between them.

  “Miss Cosgrove?”

  She jumped and opened her eyes. “Major Gibbons.”

  The major stood in the doorway a proper distance away and in full view of anyone in the hallway, so as not to give the appearance something untoward was going on. “I have been commissioned with the task of finding you.”

  “You have?” How much time had passed since she stole away with Hawk?

  “Lady Henrietta feared you might have gotten lost in the winding hallways and requested I see if such was the case. Was she correct in her assumption?”

  Madalene forced a smile. She had become lost, though not in the way Lady Henrietta had meant.

  “I am fine,” she said. “I simply needed a few moments to myself.”

  “Shall I leave you then?”

  She was about to nod then stopped. She could not stay in this room forever wishing for a different outcome. Hawk had made his choice. He would not return. He had charted his course with the determination to see it through and while his cause was a noble one, this fact offered her no solace. He would return to his solitary existence, and she would be left to carve out a life of her own without him.

  “Perhaps you might escort me back to Lady Henrietta to ease her mind that I have not become lost in the catacombs of the Lindwells’ home.”

  “I would be most pleased. And perhaps, if I might be so bold, you would allow me to invite you to join me for a walk through Hyde Park tomorrow? I am certain my sister would be more than pleased to provide us with a chaperone.”

  She doubted that, given her last conversation with Mrs. Chambers and the plans she had for her brother, but Madalene did not have the heart to tell him no. He had been kind to her, and with Hawk determined to pursue his course; she was now left to build the future she wanted.

  Unfortunately, what she wanted did not include acting as headmistress for Miss Caldwell’s school. What she wanted was a simple life. A cottage in the country far away from the glare and grime of London, children of her own filling the beds, and a man who loved her for all she had to offer, and not just her ability to breed or look pretty on his arm as if she were nothing more than an ornament.

  Did Major Gibbons envision himself as this man? She could not say.

  What she could say, however, was that when she closed her eyes and allowed herself to dream, to picture this pastoral existence in her mind, it was not Major Gibbons who held her in his arms and kissed her with such passion her toes curled inside of her shoes. Instead, the man who held her was a dark-haired, enigmatic man who walked a fine edge between light and dark until both flowed through him in equal parts.

  She forced the image away. That part of her dream would never come to fruition. Hawk had made it clear where his future lay and beyond saving her from the threat of a man who had not paid her an ounce of attention and may well not even exist, she did not factor into it.

  Sadness seeped through her, invading the marrow in her bones making her limbs heavy with loneliness.

  Madalene took the arm Major Gibbons offered. “I would be pleased to join you for a walk tomorrow. It is kind of you to ask.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  He should leave. Walking about the great room of the Lindwells’ home, Hawk was as conspicuous as a house on fire. Even before his brother’s madness changed the trajectory of his life, he had not spent much time in the drawing rooms and balls. He’d been a young man and given to chasing the entertainments young men prefer. And once he’d purchased a controlling interest in The Devil’s Lair and set about using the gaming hell to assist him in uncovering the identity of Lord T, invitations to such parties and events no longer came his way. Not that he would have attended if they had.

  So it shouldn’t surprise him now that his presence left many speechless and even more suspicious. The lords gave him a wide berth, likely because a large portion of them owed him a significant sum, while others feared he would not keep his own counsel when it came to their secrets.

  The ladies, on the other hand, while they did not outwardly engage with him, did stare over the tips of their fans and whisper from behind them. With his memories now returned, he was rather embarrassed to recall several of the ladies present had warmed his bed a time or two, though no more than that. He had not been interested in anything more. He did not have time for such entanglements. Nor was his heart up for grabs.

  Not much had changed in that regard, though the reasons for such had changed. Before, he had locked it away. Being ruthless and calculating was more easily accomplished if one did not involve themselves with the softer emotions. But now, much to his dismay, his heart had become engaged. Or rather, stolen.

  No. That was incorrect. Madalene had not stolen his heart. He had given it to her. Willingly and blindly and without forethought. If he had any sense at all, he would take it back, but he did not know if such a thing was possible and in truth, he did not want to. Likely it was far safer in her hands than in his.

  “Lord Hawksmoor, how surprising to see you here.”

  A scowl pulled at Hawk’s mouth as he turned around to find Lord Tunsten standing behind him. His first instinct was to land a cutting remark about the man returning to the home he’d been forced to let. A fortnight ago, he would have done that, but now that his memories had returned, he did not have that luxury. Lord Tunsten was on his short list of possible accomplices.

  When he’d returned from Raven Manor, the first thing he had done was review the information he had accumulated on the viscount. The man’s preferred game was roulette, despite his lack of skill and luck at the wheel. He also had a penchant for young ladies—the younger the better. At the time of Phillip’s death, Madalene had been sixteen.

  “Tunsten. I might say the same about you. Charity teas hardly seem to fit in your repertoire. Then again, given the amount of tender young girls about, perhaps I spoke too soon. Are you searching for someone in particular?”

  Tunsten’s cold eyes bored into him. Hawk cared little. Despite the man’s hostile demeanor, they both knew Hawk could destroy him in an instant by reneging on the payment plan currently in place and insisting he pay the full amount owed immediately. Tunsten had no way of coming up with such a sum. He had already mortgaged all his properties to the hilt to fund his predilections.

  “I thought it time I take another wife,” he said, casting his gaze about the room. “I hear the Lindwells’ are desperate to marry their daughters off to a titled gentleman and willing to pay a hefty dowry to do so.”

  “Aren’t the Lindwell ladies a little old for your particular tastes?”

  Tunsten’s attention cut back to Hawk. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Or what?” Hawk smiled when Tunsten did not provide an answer. “You impotent fool. Do not think to order me about. I hold your fortunes in my hands, or do you forget?”

  “Unless I marry one of the Lindwell chits. The dowry will be sufficient to pay off my debt and wash my hands of your threats.”

  Hawk leaned in, his mouth close to Tunsten’s ear. “Until the whisper of the roulette wheel calls you back, as we both know it will.”

  Tunsten pulled away, anger turning his cheeks florid. “You can rest assured I shall never grace the door of The Devil’s Lair again.”

  Hawk shrugged. “If not my hell, it will be someone else’s. And I will hear about it. When I do, rest assured, I shall relieve them of the burden of your debt and own you once again. Do you think Lindwell will bail you out a second time? He will have already accomplished his goal. His daughter will be a viscountess. What incentive will he have to garner your goodwill after that?”

  “Y
our brother was right about you. You’re a first rate bastard.”

  The insinuation cut into him, as if his brother was anyone to judge. Or Tunsten for that matter. “I may be, but I have taken nothing from you that you have not lost by your own hand, unlike you. You, I have learned, prefer to take what is not rightfully yours with little care to who gets hurt in the process, or how young they may be at the time. Tell me, if Lindwell knew of this, do you think he would be so willing to hand over one of his daughters to you? I doubt even he is that desperate.”

  “You—”

  “Save your insults,” Hawk said, cutting him off. “You are nothing. I have scraped better off the bottom of my shoe. Make no mistake, I will not countenance you attempting to tie yourself to any of the young ladies of the ton, and I include the Lindwell ladies in this lot.”

  “My, my,” Tunsten said, changing his tone. “But what is this sudden attempt at chivalry, Hawksmoor? Have you developed a tenderness for one of them? Do you fear I will get to them first? But no, it is not the Lindwell chits you have been seen in the company of recently, is it? You seem to prefer your ladies to be of a lower status than even the Americans.”

  Hawk refused to answer, but that did not prevent Tunsten’s insinuation to send a cold chill up his spine. He had noticed the attention Hawk had paid Madalene. Had Tunsten been watching her? Watching them? Was he the Lord T that Hawk sought? He recalled the man had attended parties at Raven Manor. Had he been patiently biding his time since Phillip’s death to strike, taunting Hawk in the meantime with his letters?

  Hawk gritted his teeth. Damn his inability to find the answers he needed!

  “Heed my warning, Tunsten, if you go anywhere near her, I will gut you. And it will not be a quick affair, I assure you,” Hawk said, before he turned and walked away. Even a few minutes in Tunsten’s company had left him with the desperate need to immerse himself in a hot bath and scrub the encounter from his skin.