The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  “I’m not, sir. I saw her plain as day.” He took another deep breath. “She was dressed different, though—like a servant for those uppity lords and ladies.”

  Aghast, Richard released the boy as if his clothes were on fire. “Are ye certain?”

  “Aye—with the Duke of Kensington, she was.”

  “What in the blazes was she doin’ with a duke?”

  “I dunno, sir, but I suspect she was watching his children.”

  “His children?” Richard shook his head. “She was playin’ the part of nursemaid?”

  “Aye.”

  Richard paced the room like a caged tiger, his mind spinning. Why would any lord of the realm want to hire a vagabond to be his servant? Unless… He stopped and stared out the window. Did the lord want her for other reasons—those reasons that happen after dark in a private room between a man and woman?

  Anger filled Richard and he clenched his hands. If that were the case, she would not bring a good price from Lord Blankenship. In fact, the older gent might not even be interested in paying so handsomely for the chit.

  He spun and faced David. “What did she do when she saw ye? What did she say?”

  The lad shook his head. “It was the strangest thing, sir. She stared right at me but acted as if she didn’t know who I was.”

  “Hmm…” Richard scratched his chin. “Very interestin’, indeed. Makes me wonder what kind of game she plays with the Duke of Kensington. Clearly, she has led the man to believe she is someone else. No lord in his right mind would hire such a person as a servant.”

  “Aye, sir. I thought the same.”

  “So give me what you’d picked from the uppity lord.” Richard held out his hand, palm up.

  David dug through his tattered coat, searching for the item. The longer the lad searched, the more panic filled his expression.

  “Well, where is it? Hand it over.”

  “I…I don’t have it, sir.” David’s voice trembled.

  “Ye don’t have it? Where, pray tell, could it have gone?”

  Suddenly the boy’s movements stopped and he scowled. “Louisa took it from me.”

  “What makes ye think that?”

  “She jumped in front of me as I was getting away. She surprised me, and I hesitated. Ye knows how quick her hands are. She probably took it right outta my pocket.”

  Richard rolled his eyes. Aye, his best thief would have done that…and nobody would have felt a thing. “Well, because of yer foolish hesitation, ye will go without food tonight. Now get out of here before I decide to give ye a harsher punishment. Ye disgust me and I don’t want to see yer face again tonight.”

  David’s sad eyes filled with tears. “Aye, sir,” he muttered before turning and leaving.

  Incompetent idiots, all of them.

  His skull throbbed with a headache and he walked back to his desk and picked up his flask of ale. The liquor burned as it slid down his throat, which he enjoyed because usually it kept him alert. Most of the time, anyway. And he needed help right now. How could he get that girl back so he could make more money? Never in his life did he think he’d be sitting on top of the world, but Louisa brought many talents with her—which is why he could not lose her.

  His last meeting with Percy Featherspoon had been an eye-opener, indeed. Richard had learned many things—one being that the man’s own niece was blackmailing him…the very same chit Richard used to blackmail Percy with.

  Chuckling, Richard lifted the drink to his lips. Poor Featherspoon had it coming both ways. The man was a fool for punishment, to be sure. But threatening Featherspoon to take his niece and make her Richard’s mistress was the very thing that kept Percy working for him.

  Richard sat in his chair and stared at the amounts he’d added earlier. He shook his head. One way or another, he needed to bring Louisa back. But how? Featherspoon had promised to keep looking for the girl—for his own purposes, of course. Unfortunately, she couldn’t be found. But now…

  His mind came to a screeching halt. David said she’d been with the Duke of Kensington. Although Richard did not know where the gent lived, he was quite certain finding a lord would be easy work. By the end of the week, Richard would have Louisa back in his clutches.

  * * * *

  Louisa sat on her bed, staring into the shadowed room. Knees pulled to her chest, she gently rocked back and forth as her mind recalled what happened today in front of the pastry shop. She’d acted on instinct—without thinking of the consequences. All she knew was that Trevor was being robbed and she had to stop it.

  When she ran in front of that boy, she didn’t question her actions. She didn’t think of why she slipped her hand in his coat pocket so quickly and pulled out Trevor’s watch.

  Now she thought about her actions…and she didn’t like them one bit.

  I’m a thief. Or at least she was a thief.

  How else would she know what to do at that precise moment? How else could she have accomplished taking the watch back without the boy even knowing it? And that boy…

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she took a deep breath. Louisa only remembered bits and pieces about her past, but when she’d met his stare for that brief second, she knew he’d been an acquaintance at one time in her life. She knew it like the sun would rise tomorrow.

  And Trevor had suspected as well.

  His attitude after that incident had changed drastically. On the drive back to the estate, he hardly said five words to her. Rarely did he even look her way. He focused primarily on the children, but his tone of voice had changed for the worse.

  A tear slipped down her cheek as the pain in her chest tightened.

  She turned in her bed and slipped under the covers. The single candle on the stand by her bed burned low. She didn’t have the strength to lean up and blow it out. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to remember her past.

  Why couldn’t she remember? She groaned and slammed her fist into the mattress. What was blocking it from coming forth?

  Silently she prayed for help. For a miracle. For anything that would help her remember.

  On the edge of sleep, the foggy mist in her brain parted and she saw herself sitting in a room on the floor, on a barren bedroll. Other children different ages were with her. She was young—mayhap eleven or twelve. They all wore tattered clothes that hung on their unwashed bodies.

  A chill filled Louisa’s chest as she remembered the confusion swimming in her head, the loneliness that consumed her…and especially the fear of her dire situation.

  From the other room a child screamed as a man’s strong voice boomed so loud it shook the walls. She—and the others—tried to cover their ears, but to no avail. The beatings of the child still echoed through the house like a soulful mourn.

  Anger filled Louisa. Why didn’t anyone stop this madman? But… she was a little older than the others, so perhaps she should set an example.

  Finding courage she didn’t think she possessed, she jumped to her feet and ran to the other room. A large, burly man stood with his back to her, his hand raised over his head as he held a whip. On the floor, a boy—perhaps in his sixth or seventh year—lay without a shirt. His bareback marked horribly with bloody wounds.

  “Stop this instant,” she shouted.

  Slowly, the man turned and faced her. Shadows danced across his evil expression, but his bushy eyebrows were dominant, as was his large nose and wart on his cheek. The word— warlock— passed through her mind. Or was this man Satan himself?

  The lad lay whimpering, his body shaking uncontrollably. Her heart broke for the helpless child, and she fell beside him, carefully gathering him in her arms.

  “Look what you have done,” she snapped at the man, meeting his glare head-on.

  The man snickered. “When did ye decide to play Mother Hen?”

  “When I could not stand hearing his cries any longer.”

  “This is not yer business.”

  “Why are you whipping him? What did he do to you?”
r />   The man belched a laugh and his alcoholic breath filled the air. “He did not bring me what I asked for.”

  “He’s new. You cannot blame him for not knowing how to steal. In fact, I shall teach him. But for the love of God, stop beating him!”

  He shook his head, his smile widening. “And what if ye cannot teach the fool? What if ye fail?”

  “Then…” Panic filled her and she gazed down into the lad’s teary eyes. “Then I shall take his punishment.”

  “No,” the boy whispered as more tears fell.

  The man grasped her arm and yanked her to her feet. His dark glare pierced right through her. “Ye ready to take on such a challenge?”

  “Indeed, I am.” She lifted her stubborn chin.

  “Ye have a week to train him. That’s all.”

  Nodding, she pulled away from the man and helped the boy off the floor and back to his bedroll. “What is your name?”

  “D—D—David,” he muttered.

  Gasping, Louisa was brought back to the present and jumped out of bed. Her body shook from the recent memory. David. The boy who tried to pick Trevor’s pocket was named David. And…she trained him.

  She groaned and covered her face with her hands. Her eyes stung with tears and dread filled her chest. She had been the burly man’s best thief. None of the other children could measure up to her. She made Macgregor a lot of money.

  Macgregor!

  That was the person who’d been whipping David.

  Oh, how horrible. She must tell Trevor.

  But she couldn’t.

  She shook her head, arguing with herself. She must tell him what she remembered. She didn’t want him to accuse her of lying to him. If he turned her out on the street then she would accept her fate. But she could not lie to the man she had fallen in love with.

  Before she could change her mind, she threw on her wrapper, slid her feet into slippers, then hurried out of the room. The evening was late, but she prayed Trevor would still be awake. She didn’t dare check his room, so she went to his study to see if by chance he was there.

  She knocked quietly on the closed door before slowly pushing it open. A low fire burned in the hearth, but that was the only light in the room—dim as it was. His scent filled the air around her and brought back those memories she had shared with him…kissing him, holding him, and falling in love. She feared all of that would end soon. When he heard what kind of person she’d been, he would toss her out in the street—and rightly so. But hopefully, he’d let her explain first.

  Entering the room, she took soft steps, scanning the premises. No sign of Trevor. Yet…the fire still burned, and an empty glass sat on his desk. She moved closer and picked it up, sniffing inside. Brandy. He’d been here not long ago.

  From behind, the floor creaked. She jumped and spun around, falling back against the desk. Trevor stood just inside the door holding a full bottle of brandy. Gone was his waistcoat and cravat, and his shirt was opened at the throat. Eyes, wide with surprise, peered her way as his attention moved over her from head to toe.

  “Louisa? What in the blazes are you doing up this late at night?”

  “I—I need to speak with you.”

  His gaze narrowed on her, ambling forward with quick strides. “You have been crying.” He set the bottle on his desk before cupping her face. “What’s amiss?”

  Tenderness glowed in his worried eyes, and she tried not to cry from happiness, reminding herself that his attitude would certainly change when she confessed the truth.

  She held his warm hands, not wanting them to leave her cheeks, but knowing she couldn’t cuddle against them forever. “I remembered something tonight.”

  He slipped his arm around her and led her to the sofa. “Tell me.” Sitting beside her, he took hold of her cold hands.

  “Oh, Trevor. I fear what I have to say is very upsetting.”

  “Yes, I can see it on your face. But please tell me.”

  Nodding, she swallowed to moisten her throat. “Earlier today when I stopped that thief, I realized I knew him from somewhere, but I couldn’t recall exactly where.”

  Trevor’s body stiffened, but thankfully, he didn’t pull his hands away.

  “Tonight I remembered where I met him.”

  “Where?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Do you remember the name Macgregor?”

  “Yes, you had mentioned him once.”

  “I still don’t recall everything I should, but I know he gathered children—orphans—to come work for him. He taught these children to steal from wealthy people.”

  “Pick-pockets?”

  “Yes.” She swept her tongue across her dry lips before continuing. “The boy who took your watch…his name is David.”

  “He knew you as well?”

  She gave a small nod. “Yes. I was also one of the children who worked for Macgregor.”

  Slowly, Trevor removed his hand and raked his fingers through his hair. His stubbled jaw tightened. A vein in his neck stood out more than she’d seen it before. Inwardly, she shriveled and died. He was withdrawing from her and she didn’t know how to keep it from happening. As much as she wanted to return to the way they’d been this morning…that was now just a memory she would always cherish.

  “Trevor,” she quickly continued, “when I remembered this, I knew I had to come tell you immediately. I don’t want to hold anything back from you.”

  “I appreciate your honesty.”

  His words were too clipped. His tone too harsh. The urge to cry was so strong, but she held back the tears even though it physically hurt her body to do so. The past had taught her to expect pain and heartache. She must sit and await her punishment.

  “Was that all you remembered?” he asked, closing his eyes as he rubbed his forehead.

  “Pretty much. However, I do know that I was Macgregor’s best. It was my duty to teach the newcomers. David had been new, and I taught him.”

  “That certainly explains a lot, Louisa.” Trevor blew out a pent-up breath before moving off the settee.

  She remained still, giving him time to think. Silently, she prayed for strength—but most of all, she prayed he’d forgive her. She wanted him to understand and not blame her.

  He walked to his desk and poured another full glass of brandy. Without saying a word, he tipped the drink to his lips and gulped it down quickly, grimacing after he’d swallowed. He walked to the hearth, leaned his bent arm against the stone, and stared into the smoldering fire. The wood popping as it broke apart was the only sound in the room.

  She waited for what seemed like an eternity for him to say something. Anything. And the longer the silence stretched, the more her heart died. She should leave and return to her room, but she didn’t dare make a sound. Giving Trevor time to think was the best thing to do right now, even if it meant sitting very still and biting her tongue.

  What could he possibly be thinking right now? Not moving, he stared into the fire as if all of his answers were buried somewhere in the ashes and would magically swirl up from the grate and make themselves known.

  Although obviously upset, Trevor was still so very handsome. She could stare at him forever but knew she’d never be allowed that chance of touching heaven. Or of having a love so pure, so unconditional, that nothing would ever worry her again…where peace filled her always.

  Louisa’s eyes drooped and she blinked hard to keep exhaustion from overtaking her to where she couldn’t keep them open. Just as she thought all hope was lost of staying awake, Trevor turned and looked at her. She snapped to attention, ready for the final verdict.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A thief. And an accomplished one, at that.

  Fog filled Trevor’s mind, and try as he might, he couldn’t completely unscramble his confusion. He’d gotten to know the loving, kind, and wonderful woman inside. Being a thief shouldn’t matter.

  Yet it did.

  How did she get to that low point in her life? By now, he was convinced her parent
s were of noble birth. So how could she have turned out with such a vice?

  Trevor convinced himself he need not worry. Louisa was living a better life now. She would never return to her past—even when she finally regained her memory. She would want to stay with him and care for his twins.

  Expelling his breath, he pushed his fingers through his hair. She sat straight on his sofa and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

  “Forgive me for being caught up in my thoughts and ignoring you,” he said.

  Slowly, she shook her head. “No need to apologize. I understand why you are so quiet. With the declaration I made of being a thief, I expected you to come to some conclusion about…tossing me out and ending my employment.”

  “Louisa, I cannot possibly blame you for being a thief. I’m quite certain you were forced into this kind of life.”

  A rush of air escaped her mouth and her shoulders sagged.

  “What brought you to this circumstance is most confusing,” he continued, “and until your memory fully returns, we shall never know why a woman of such quality—as yourself—was brought to a horrid lowly point in your life.”

  Tears swam in her eyes, but through the sheen, he detected gratitude. “Louisa, we will work past this stumbling block which has been thrown in our path, and we will come out the victor.”

  “Indeed, we shall,” she said with a choked voice.

  “Am I correct to assume you have not stolen from me?”

  “You are correct. I have never stolen from you.”

  “I doubt you ever will.”

  “Rest assured, Your Grace, I would never do such a thing. Why would I bite the hand that feeds me?”

  He strolled to the sofa, took her cold hands in his, and helped her stand. A tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it with his thumb. “This, I know, my dear. Although you were a thief, you are not any longer. Instead, you are a nursemaid for my children who adore and love you. I can’t ask for more.”

  Nodding, her bottom lip trembled and she smiled. “I shall do my best to make you proud, Your Grace.”

  He leaned in closer and whispered, “Louisa, please say my name.”