Secrets 03 - Shattered Secrets

by Lana Williams

  “I thought brandy was to be savored,” Lucas said.

  “On certain occasions, it’s more about the effect rather than the experience.” Ashbury emptied his glass then raised it to Lucas. “Your turn.”

  The girls clapped, and all eyes were on him. He tipped his head back and drained his too, then held it out for Ashbury to refill.

  “Another for everyone?” Ashbury asked.

  “No, thank you.” Moira rose from her chair. “Girls, please say good night and I’ll tuck you in myself.”

  They said polite good nights to Weston and Ashbury, leaving Lucas for last.

  Amelia curtsied. “Good night, Uncle Lucas.”

  Addie didn’t bother with formality. Instead, she hugged him. Amelia joined her.

  Lucas’s chest squeezed. What was he to do with these girls? All three of them had worked their way into his life and into his heart.

  Moira’s expression was unreadable as she said good night and accompanied the girls out of the room.

  “This was a hell of an evening.” Weston turned to splash a bit more brandy into his glass. “How did we all miss seeing Moira and the twins enter the theater?”

  “They must’ve arrived earlier than we did. I didn’t expect so many people to attend. The crowd was unbelievable.” Ashbury turned to Lucas. “When did you notice that Moira and the girls were there?”

  “Not until the performance was nearly over.” He glanced at Ashbury. “It’s the dark auras that catch your eye. When I realized Moira’s aura was dark—” He looked away, unable to revisit it again.

  “You were at the back of the theater, though, quite some distance away.”

  Lucas nodded. “It took me forever to reach her because the crowd was leaving. I didn’t know why her aura was dark until I noticed the man directly behind her.”

  “I hope you had a good look at him, for I fear you’ll be seeing more of Vincent Simmons.”

  “He is a slippery one,” Weston said. “He’s outwitted us more times than we care to admit.”

  Ashbury swirled the brandy in his glass. “You do realize one thing, Berkmond?” He raised his gaze to meet Lucas’s. “You saved Moira’s life tonight.”

  “She saved herself.”

  “If you hadn’t been there to make certain she truly escaped, Simmons would’ve gone after her again. The man is relentless.”

  Lucas shook his head in an attempt to remove the image of the gun Simmons had held. “I fear I put her in danger far more than I helped.”

  “In a crowd like that with so many people and all those auras, it’s impossible to tell what’s happening.” Weston ran a hand through his hair.

  “But you were able to do so and stop it.” Ashbury moved to stand before Lucas. “You made a difference tonight. That ability may be a curse of the worst kind, but you saved Moira’s life.”

  “That rarely happens. As Weston pointed out this morning, if it’s someone’s time to die, it’s their time. I might be able to delay the inevitable—”

  “I don’t believe that’s always true. I have no doubt fate has a hand in all this, but I also believe in you. For whatever terrible reason we have these abilities, you must admit they sometimes serve a purpose. It’s determining how to live with them—therein lies the trick.” Ashbury set his glass on the table and reached for his hat. “I believe we should be on our way, Weston.”

  “The carriage will take you home.” Lucas didn’t delay them. He wanted to go to Moira.

  “I look forward to spending the rest of the evening with my wife.” Weston smiled at Lucas. “I’m sure you do as well. Good night.”

  Ashbury turned back to Lucas. “We received some interesting information that requires a visit to the East End. Do you have clothes that might be less formal?”

  Lucas glanced down at his suit. “I suppose I can come up with something if you think it necessary.”

  “Excellent. I’ll tell you the details tomorrow when I know more.”

  Lucas remained, staring out the window as he listened to the footman see the men out and lock the door. He’d nearly lost Moira tonight. The sight of that dark aura surrounding her had made him frantic. He wasn’t certain he could stand such a sight again.

  He made his way up to his room and dismissed the valet. After changing into a dressing gown, he stared at the connecting door. There was simply no way he could stay away. Not tonight. Not after what had just happened.

  He knocked softly, wondering if she’d turn him away.

  “Come in.”

  Relief filled him at the simple words. He opened the door to find her sitting up in bed with a book on her lap, a small oil lamp lit on the table next to her. The soft light made her green eyes look huge. Her hair fell in waves past her shoulders. The covers were pulled up to her lap, leaving her nightgown the only thing covering her. Her breasts were just visible beneath the sheer material.

  She watched him closely but, again, he couldn’t tell what she might be thinking.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, uncomfortable with the silence.

  She nodded. “Are you?”

  He shook his head.

  Concern instantly filled her expression as she set the book aside. “What is it? Did that man injure you?”

  Lucas sat beside her on the bed and took her hand in his, unable not to touch her after all that had happened. “No, he didn’t. But seeing you in danger…”

  He drew a breath, trying to say the right thing when he didn’t know what that was. “I can’t stand it. I’m sorry I haven’t been with you more. I didn’t stop to think that you might be in danger. My focus has been completely on finding Grisby, not on you or the girls.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Of course it has. That’s why we came to London. I didn’t expect you to entertain us, not with the professor on the loose.” She released his hand to place hers alongside his cheek. “I confess that I miss you, though.”

  “And I’ve missed you as well.” He didn’t deserve this woman. He’d known so all along, but each day he found another reason it was true. He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand, uncomfortable with the emotions rolling through him, from gratitude to desire along with others so unfamiliar, he couldn’t name them.

  Perhaps he didn’t have the words he needed but there were other ways to show her what a treasure she was. He touched his tongue to the center of her palm. Her hand trembled in response.

  He held her hand in place and moved up to the crook of her elbow to press a kiss to the softness there. Her lips were irresistible and he kissed those next, delighted when her tongue danced with his. Next he moved down her long, slim neck. She tilted her head and sighed with pleasure. As his fingers trailed along the satin of her hair, he tried to slow his need for her but to no avail. Somehow, physical contact with her seemed to both ease his previous fear for her safety and increase his desire, all at the same time.

  “Lucas.”

  The seriousness of her tone stilled his movements, and he caught her gaze.

  “I was worried about you too. When you ran after Simmons, I could hardly bear it.” The fear in her eyes tugged at him.

  In all honesty, the idea that his actions might have caused her concern hadn’t crossed his mind. “I promise to take care if you will do the same.”

  She gave him a timid smile and nodded. “Very well. We have an agreement.” She placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that stirred things deep inside of him he’d thought long dead. She made him feel like a normal man with needs and wants and…hope.

  Here, now, he didn’t feel like the broken man he knew himself to be.

  She kissed his cheek, along his jaw, and down his neck. When she continued lower, parting his robe as she went, his heart stuttered. He gathered her into his arms and kissed her long and deep, feasting on her sweet taste.

  She drew back and untied the ribbon holding the neck of her gown in place, watching him all the while. With one finger, she tugged,
expanding the fabric so it fell open, revealing more of her generous breasts.

  “Sweet Moira.” Lucas shed his dressing gown and reached for her.

  She twined her arms around his neck, running her hands through his hair, then across his shoulders. He shifted, his muscles bunching and loosening where she touched him.

  “You are magic,” he whispered. He desperately needed more of her. He eased her nightgown off, loving every inch it revealed.

  She smiled and pressed a kiss to his chest, stealing his breath. Moving lower still, she kissed his nipple and he twitched in reaction. She bit her lip as she looked up at him, raising a brow. “Sensitive?”

  “Christ. You are a siren.” He drew her into his arms, nearly mad with desire.

  He moved to lay her down but again she stopped him. “You first.”

  “Moira—” He didn’t think he could bear to allow her to touch him further. Not when each caress and kiss heightened his need.

  “Please.”

  How could one simple word undo him so? He pulled the covers back farther and laid down, drawing her on top of him. He kissed her again, hoping she’d forget her request.

  But no, she rose up on her elbow and started the sweet torture again, kissing his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, until he could take no more. He was so hard, he feared this would be over before it began.

  “Moira, I need you. Now.”

  With a smile, she allowed him to ease her onto the pillow, her hair fanning out around her head. He kissed her breast then drew the peak into his mouth, licking and sucking until she writhed with need. He pressed a kiss to the softness of her belly, pleased when her breath caught.

  When he touched her moist folds, the heat there had him drawing a deep breath to rein in his desire. He’d wanted to show her how much she meant to him, that he treasured her, but passion took over. He eased into her tight passage, reveling in the sensation, trying to savor each and every movement.

  But Moira had other ideas. She quickened the pace with the shift of her hips and he was helpless.

  Needing her to journey with him, he reached between them, loving the soft cries that passed her lips as she gained her release. He soon followed, the intensity taking him by surprise.

  As he drifted slowly back to earth, he simply held her, never wanting to let her go. While keeping her at a distance was supposed to stop him from hurting so much, it no longer seemed to be working. The peace that came over him in quiet moments like this made him long for things he’d thought impossible.

  Yet how could he remain here and attempt to have a normal life? What would her reaction be if he told her the truth? The expression on her face as she backed away in horror was all he could imagine.

  “What is it?” she asked as she stirred in his arms. “I can feel you growing tense.”

  He forced himself to relax. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He pulled the covers over them and savored the moment, more uncertain than ever of what the future would bring.

  *

  Moira sighed in disappointment as she realized Lucas was gone again. The bed beside her was cool to the touch. Morning light was just coming in the windows, so she knew it was early.

  She rolled over and tucked herself into a ball. She’d thought they were growing closer, but obviously she was wrong. Her heart ached at the thought. Before his arrival, she’d told herself not to let him into her heart again, but how could she prevent it? He was a wonderful, strong man. Handsome, so sweet with the girls, but guarding himself so closely that she no longer believed he’d allow her in.

  Simmons’ words rang through her mind for the hundredth time, “I don’t need ye. I just need those girls.” Even he understood she held no sway over Lucas. Certainly he cared for her, but that appeared to be the extent of it. Maybe she wasn’t meant to tear down the wall between them. Maybe she was simply supposed to be there when he needed her. If he needed her.

  Where did that leave them? Friends by day and lovers at night? Could she do that and keep herself whole? She feared she already knew the answer to that question.

  *

  Lucas paused at the entrance of the Bull and Boar Tavern that evening. The place was just as he would’ve expected, grimy, far too loud, and full to the brim. A mix of spilled ale, sweat, and fried food scented the air. Conversation was loud, drowning out the sounds of the street. It was well past quitting time for most working men, and many had apparently determined they deserved a pint or two before making their way home.

  Auras blurred before him, mostly light, a few dark. He did his best to ignore them and the dull ache in his head that came with them.

  He ran a hand along the front of the simple brown coat he wore. His clothes, including his bowler hat, weren’t much of a disguise, but neither did they proclaim him an earl. He was certain members of the nobility were not welcome in an establishment such as this one.

  He glanced back over his shoulder to the busy street, once again struck with the feeling someone watched him, something he’d sensed several times since he’d left Park Lane. He’d spoken with Moira briefly before he’d left, glad to hear that she and the girls were staying home tonight. He’d posted extra footmen on duty and requested they be on alert.

  A woman caught his eye, staring directly at him. Her simple wool cloak and brown hat along with her presence here suggested she worked for a living. Her face seemed vaguely familiar. As her gaze moved from him, he realized she was probably staring at his eye patch. He brushed aside the feeling and entered the tavern.

  A dark walnut bar ran the length of the building. Several men worked behind it, filling glasses and teasing the serving maids who carted trays of drinks to customers.

  He wound his way through the patrons and found a table about half way through the room. Apparently, neither Ashbury nor Weston had yet arrived. He settled in, facing the door so he could keep watch. Ashbury better have a good reason for them to meet here.

  “What can I fetch ye this evenin’?” The maid appeared far too young to serve in a tavern. Lucas couldn’t help but wonder what circumstances had brought her to such a job.

  “A pint, please.” A glass of watered down ale held no appeal, but he could hardly sit here for any length of time and not order something.

  He’d taken his first sip, which tasted better than he’d expected, when Ashbury walked in. Lucas nearly smiled at his friend’s appearance. He’d shortened his stride, kept his head down, and his ill-fitting suit was a bit dusty.

  He nodded at Lucas and took the seat next to him. “What have I missed?”

  Lucas snorted. “Nothing that I’ve seen.”

  “Who’s dying tonight?” Ashbury surveyed the crowd before looking back at Lucas who glared at him. “What?”

  “Why would you ask such a thing?”

  Ashbury leaned forward. “If you don’t make light of it on occasion, it will eat you from the inside out.”

  Lucas considered his statement. “I have to assume you are speaking from experience.”

  “Indeed I am.” He tipped his head toward the table next to them. “See the man with the light colored hair and hawk of a nose?”

  Lucas nodded.

  “He’s up to no good. The question is, what do I do about it?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Impossible to say.”

  “The girl who’s serving you has a dark aura as well.”

  Lucas turned to watch her as she counted the coins a patron had given her. “Surely it’s only because she’s going to slip some of those coins into her pocket and not pass them to the bartender.”

  Ashbury leaned back and tapped his fingers on the table as he watched her. “Some days I am quite overwhelmed with it all.”

  “That I can understand.”

  “So we make light of it when we can, take action when we must, and consider each situation one at a time.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Farley, my partner in the gaming hell, for one.” Ashbury smiled.

  “Tiago is quite
impressed with Farley.”

  “Do you see the man with the large mustache and a blue handkerchief in his front pocket?” Ashbury asked.

  Lucas searched until he saw the man a few tables away then nodded.

  “That’s Farley. He’s an excellent boxer and an even better judge of character. He comes from this side of the city and has been incredibly helpful assisting me.”

  “He knows of your…talent?”

  Ashbury scoffed. “Talent. That’s a good one. Yes, he does.” Before Lucas could ask, Ashbury held up his hand. “Not yours, nor Weston’s. Those are not my secrets to share.”

  Lucas was relieved. He wasn’t comfortable with a stranger knowing of his terrible ability.

  “There’s Weston.” Ashbury watched as their friend came in the door, paused, then slowly made his way toward them.

  “Not much of a disguise, is it?” Lucas asked. Weston’s attire didn’t look much different than normal.

  “He thinks if he wears coats two-years old, the dated look makes him appear less lord-like.”

  Lucas chuckled. “He always liked to be dressed fashionably. Cared more about his clothes than his studies at university.”

  “What are you two finding so amusing?” Weston asked as he took his seat. He glanced at the waitress who immediately hurried over to take his and Ashbury’s order.

  “Your attire,” Ashbury said after the waitress stepped away.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Weston looked down at his coat, smoothing the front of it.

  “Nothing. That’s the problem.”

  “I hardly think we need to dress like dock workers to accomplish what we want.”

  “What exactly is our purpose this evening?” Lucas asked, trying to bring the conversation back on topic.

  “Farley found a lead on the man who searched so vigilantly for Patrick, Emma’s brother, who witnessed Markus’ murder,” Ashbury explained.

  “Excellent,” Weston said, sitting forward with eagerness. “Is he here now?”

  Ashbury glanced over to Farley then back. “Not yet but he’s expected soon. He’s a regular here.”

  “Why was this man looking for Patrick?”

  “We believe Simmons put out the word that he would pay well for anyone who located Patrick. Mikey nearly caught him.”