The Sweetest Touch

by Marie Higgins

  Louisa hadn’t realized she’d been crying until a tear trickled down her cheek. “If you had only said something to me back then, I know my family would have helped you.”

  “Not when I wanted Frank as my husband and I couldn’t because you were betrothed to him. It was after you had told me your parents had betrothed you to him when I started planning your disappearance. I’m sorry you were sold to Macgregor because I had not planned for that to happen. However, I am not sorry about everything else I did. Frank and I are to be married next week, and you are not going to stop it.”

  Louisa held up her hands in defeat. “Oh, believe me. I will not stop it at all. I don’t love Frank. I never did. You can have him. All I want is my family—and home. I want my real life back.”

  “Well, I honestly don’t know how you can do that without the truth coming out. If Frank and your parents discover it was me all along…” She waved a hand in the air. “Impossible. It cannot work, Louisa. You cannot re-enter your life now. Not when everything is finally falling into place for me.”

  Was the kind of anger pumping through her now what criminals experienced before they committed a crime? Yet the hatred inside Louisa ran hot—fiery hot—and she had no wish to cool it any time soon.

  Louisa lashed out and struck the other woman across the face, then grasped her thin shoulders for a hard shake. “Just try and stop me. I will not let you win.”

  For a split second, Eliza’s eyes widened in panic, then a devilish grin spread across her face. “I beg to differ, my friend. I will stop you.” She lifted her hand which now clutched a knife. “Release me at once or I will surely use this to protect myself.”

  Keeping her eyes on the knife, Louisa slowly backed away. Why in heavens name did Eliza have a weapon on her person? A knife—in fact—that looked vaguely familiar… “Where did you get that? Is that not Mr. Macgregor’s hunting knife?”

  Eliza laughed with a wicked grate to her voice. “My, my… I’m surprised at you, Louisa. You know so much about Macgregor.” She tilted her head to the side. “I heard you were Macgregor’s best. Does that mean he made you his whore, too?”

  “How dare you! I would not allow that man to touch me in such a vile way. I would have killed him if he had.”

  “Well, what do you know—your wish came true. Now the man is dead, and you can take the credit.”

  Louisa shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  Just then the carriage rolled to a stop and Eliza took a quick glance out the window. Her smile widened when she met Louisa’s stare.

  “You shall find out in a moment, my dear friend.” She reached for the door and opened it, climbing out backwards. Once her feet hit the ground, she motioned with the knife. “Come down.”

  Panic settled in Louisa’s chest. Something was not right. She didn’t dare comply with the other woman’s wishes, yet did she have a choice?”

  “Miss Watson? What is going on?” a voice asked from behind Eliza.

  “Oh, Constable Oxley. I’m so happy you are here. I was accosted in my own carriage by this vagabond, and thankfully, I was able to get the weapon away from her to protect myself.” Eliza pointed inside the carriage. “I have found Mr. Macgregor’s killer. She is a madwoman, I tell you, and completely insane.”

  Dread poured over Louisa as the man and two other policemen rushed toward her, pointing their swords at her. At this particular moment, she did not know how to fix this. Perhaps this was her destiny after all.

  * * * *

  Trevor hurried into Whites where he’d been told Trey and Dominic were spending their leisurely afternoon. Other lords greeted Trevor, and he nodded to be polite, but never replied. After searching through two rooms, he found Trey and Dominic playing cards with three other men.

  Slowing his pace, Trevor strolled to the table so as not to draw any attention to himself. He waited patiently—though he wanted to drag the two out of this room by their ears—until the card game ended and a winner was announced. Trevor sighed in relief.

  “Kensington, my good man,” Dominic said cheerfully. “Would you enjoy playing the next game with us?”

  “No, I do not wish to join. What I would like, instead, is to talk with you and my brother. In private, if at all possible.”

  Hawthorne and Trey traded glances before they pushed away from the table and muttered excuses to the others. Trevor led them out of the room and into another more private.

  “You are out of sorts again today, aren’t you?” Trey asked.

  “Actually yes, but for different reasons this time.” Trevor walked to the window and glanced outside but didn’t really see anything. There was too much on his mind to concentrate on other things. “I need your help.” He looked back at the other two. “I need to find Louisa.”

  Both men gaped—their eyes widened.

  Trey shook his head. “You are not talking rational, my brother. Are you not the one who told her to leave the other night?”

  “Indeed, I did, but I was wrong. Dreadfully wrong.” He handed the letter to them and waited for them to read it. When they both looked up, surprise registered on their faces even more than before.

  “She really is the Danvers daughter,” Hawthorne muttered.

  “Yes, she is. But what is worse, is that Macgregor was stabbed in an alleyway last night.” Trevor shoved the newspaper at them. “I’m worried Louisa will get blamed for killing the man.”

  “No, it could not have been her.” Trey skimmed the article. “She would not do that, but even if she did, I would not judge her.”

  “Not me, either,” Dominic quickly added.

  “Another thing that worries me is the witness who claims to have seen a woman running away from the stabbing.” Trevor pointed to the newspaper. “I don’t trust Miss Watson. Her actions the other night at Mother’s dinner party proved she is hiding something.”

  Dominic grumbled and slammed his fist against a chair. “I feel the same frustration, Your Grace. What is it that you wish us to do?”

  “Somehow we have to find her and protect her. She cannot go to the gaol for a crime she did not commit.”

  Pushing his fingers through his black hair, Trey walked to a chair and sat. “What about her family? Should they know?”

  “She does not wish them to know,” Dominic argued as he flipped his finger against the letter.

  “I debated over this issue as well,” Trevor said. “I think I know why Louisa doesn’t want them to know—because of her criminal past.”

  “A past she had no control over.” Dominic huffed.

  “I agree, but she is not thinking that way.” Trevor shook his head. “I believe her family would want to know if she was in danger so they could help.”

  “Will Louisa be put out with you for telling her family?” Trey asked.

  Trevor shrugged. “That is a chance I will have to take. Right now, I fear for her safety.” He switched his attention between Trey and Dominic. “Are you with me?”

  “Always.” Trey stood.

  “Right beside you, Your Grace.” Dominic nodded. “I will do anything to help that poor woman.”

  Trevor scowled and pointed his finger toward his brother’s best friend. “Do not think about charming her, do you understand?”

  A grin stretched across Hawthorne’s mouth. “I promise not to seduce her, just as long as you admit you are in love with her.”

  “Augh!” Trevor threw his hands in the air. He couldn’t count how many times he wanted to punch the insolent lord in the face but resisted. “Fine. I shall admit it now. I love her. I have loved her almost from the first day I brought her to my home. There. Are you satisfied?”

  Trey chuckled and patted his brother’s back. “No need to get so upset, Trevor. Hawthorne and I knew you were in love with her all this time. We were just waiting for you to admit it.”

  Mumbling curses, Trevor swung around and marched toward the front door. A smile tried to tug at his lips, but he refused to allow the other two l
ords to see how uncomfortable this made him. Admitting he had such feelings for a woman—since he’d never had them before—was new to him and he wished Hawthorne and his brother hadn’t witnessed his weakness.

  Nonetheless, Trevor did love her and he’d do anything to help her.

  Trey caught up to Trevor and tugged on his sleeve. He stopped and faced his youngest brother. A smirk played across Trey’s face. “Not to worry, my dear brother.” Trey grinned. “Hawthorne knows how to make the Worthington men confess things they don’t normally do. If not for Nic, I would not have admitted to loving Judith.”

  Trevor arched a brow. “Indeed?”

  “Oh yes. Nic even went as far as to kiss her—in front of me, no less.”

  A chuckle sprang to Trevor’s throat. “I can believe that. But if he tries that on Louisa, I swear I will call him out.”

  “Oh, I’m quite certain Hawthorne will not do that to Louisa. Or to you. Nic knows me well, which is why he attempted to make me jealous.” He shrugged. “It worked like a charm.”

  “Good.” Trevor turned and hurried out the front door as a servant ran to fetch the horses.

  Hawthorne stopped beside Trevor and nudged his arm. “Are we going to talk to the Danvers now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wish we knew more about Miss Watson. I, too, don’t feel she is being entirely honest.”

  Trevor glanced at Nic. “Well, considering her uncle is the very man who kidnapped Louisa, I think that right there will give the Danvers enough doubt to start questioning her as well.”

  “Good thinking, brother.” Trey nodded.

  The servant brought the horses around, and each man grasped the reins. Just as Trevor mounted, another horseman rode up to them and stopped quickly. The dust around them puffed into thick clouds, and the wind didn’t assist matters any, either.

  As the dust cloud cleared, Trevor recognized the rider. “Tristan. It is good to see you this afternoon.”

  “Trevor, I’m glad I caught you. I was just at the gaol, and—”

  “You were at the gaol?” Trevor’s voice rose. “Why? What happened? Do I need to hire my solicitor to represent you?” He shook his head. “I cannot believe they think you guilty of Hollingsworth’s death.”

  “Trevor, that’s not why I was there. But as I was leaving, the police were bringing in a prisoner.” Tristan leaned over and touched Trevor’s arm. “They have arrested Louisa.”

  Trevor’s heart cried out and buzzed through his already pounding head. His chest ached as panic surged through him. He glanced at Trey and Hawthorne whose angry expressions mirrored the way Trevor felt.

  “Go tell the Danvers,” Trevor instructed. “It’s extremely crucial for me to talk with Louisa now.” He turned to Tristan. “Will you help me?”

  “Yes. What do you wish me do to?”

  “Find Miss Watson. She is behind this somehow. I need to know.”

  Tristan shrugged. “I can help you with that one already. Miss Watson was the one who turned Louisa in to the authorities.”

  Trevor’s curses mixed loudly with Trey’s and Dominic’s. “All right, so the woman is more vindictive than we thought. I shall ride to the gaol immediately. Hopefully Louisa can shed some light on this.”

  Trey and Dominic kicked their horses into a run as Tristan followed. With a heavy heart, Trevor rode toward the gaol, knowing not what he would find, or even if Louisa would speak to him. He had been wrong to judge her so quickly the other night and he would always be sorrowful for his actions. But right now he must make amends by finding Macgregor’s true killer.

  He rode his horse hard, only stopping when he reached the building. Quickly, he dismounted and threw his reins to a servant boy who hurried over to assist. Trevor’s long strides ate up the distance between him and the gaol until he walked inside. Many people milled about, and he turned to the first policeman he found.

  “Please, sir. I need to speak with the magistrate or governor of the facility,” Trevor demanded.

  “Neither are here at the moment. How may I assist you?”

  “I am the Duke of Kensington, and I heard you brought in a prisoner. A woman by the name of Louisa Hamilton. I would like to see her, please.”

  The other man arched a gray bushy eyebrow. “Why, may I ask?”

  “Because she works for me, and I think she is innocent. I will hire my solicitor if I must, but she will not be sent to the gallows for something she did not do.”

  “I shall allow you to see her, but only for a few minutes.” The jailer turned and walked down a long hall.

  The stench of unwashed bodies and rotten food had Trevor gagging. He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and lifted it to his nose. “Has her trial been set yet?”

  “No, it has not,” the man told him over his shoulder. “Perhaps tomorrow when Magistrate Templeton arrives.”

  Trevor could not let Louisa stay in this godforsaken place overnight. There had to be some way to get her released.

  As he passed the rooms lining tightly along the way, he noticed the damp walls and floors. Mice scampered across the floor as if they owned the building. Bile rose to Trevor’s throat. These conditions were not tolerable. He must get Louisa out—even if he had to sneak her out.

  The jailer stopped at a door and withdrew a set of brass keys, Trevor peered into the small window. Sitting on a cot facing the wall with her black cloak wrapped around her was the woman he loved completely. Her hair flowed long over her shoulders and back and much too tangled for his liking. Her appearance almost reminded him of when he had brought her home, the only difference being her clothes were not tattered. His heart wrenched with sorrow.

  As the jailer unlocked the door, Louisa turned her head toward the opening with widened eyes. The man took one step inside. “You have a visitor.” Then he backed out and motioned for Trevor to enter. Taking a deep breath, Trevor walked in.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Louisa blinked, not once but several times to clear her vision. The man she never thought she’d see again stood just inside her prison; a room so small it barely had space for a cot—if that was what this thing she sat upon was called. She’d had a better bed while working for Macgregor.

  Seeing Trevor standing there made her heart leap, but she didn’t dare get too anxious and hope Trevor was here to save her. Then again, his expression wasn’t one of anger. Instead, sadness and regret laced his eyes and his frown.

  “T—Tre… Your Grace?” There was a catch in her voice, and she wished it hadn’t sounded so helpless.

  “Louisa,” he said taking a step closer. “This is wrong. So wrong.”

  All right, so maybe he wasn’t here to save her. “Indeed, it is.”

  His gaze jumped around the room, not resting on anything for a few awkward moments until it reached her eyes then stopped.

  “Oh, Louisa. This is my fault. All of it.” He rushed to her, knelt on one knee, and grasped her cold hands.

  Still not believing any of this was happening, Louisa blinked again, but this time it was to stop her tears from building. Her efforts were wasted when liquid streamed down her face. She shook her head. “You…shouldn’t kneel on the floor. God only knows what vermin has been on this ground.” She pulled his hands to help him up, but he was unmovable.

  “My dearest, Louisa, I know you didn’t kill Macgregor, although I would not have blamed you if you had. There were several times I wanted to relieve your suffering by ending that man’s life.” Trevor rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles.

  “I—I—” Her voice choked and she swallowed hard to help move the lump of emotion stuck in her throat. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “I know, my dear, which is why I’m here. I want to help you any way I can.”

  “You cannot.” She shook her head. “My childhood friend, Miss Eliza Watson, has created a lie that only festers and grows larger. I have no way to cease her stories…and I cannot prove my innocence.” She sniffed. “I am destined for the gallows, I fe
ar.”

  “No! I forbid it.” Trevor’s voice rose. “There must be a way out of this nightmare. I cannot let this happen to you. My life has changed so drastically since you entered, and I cannot imagine my future without you in it.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

  A soapy, yet woodsy scent enveloped her and she wanted to close her eyes and pretend she was back in his home living out her dream. But his clean smell reminded her where she’d been for the past few days as reality shook her to her senses.

  “No.” She pushed him away. “I have been sleeping in a stable, wrapped in a horse blanket. Your Grace, you should not be so personal with me holding me so close, and you should definitely not be here.”

  He withdrew, his eyes narrowed and lips turned downward as he stared into her eyes. “Don’t you want me here, Louisa?”

  Her heart lurched again. “That’s not what I said.”

  “I know it is not, but I still expect you to answer my question…from your heart.”

  Dropping her attention to his cravat, her bottom lip trembled. She fought the turbulent emotions spinning through her, especially when all she wanted to do was cry like a baby. “Your Grace, as much as I want my fairytale dream to come true, I know it is impossible. I have lived as a vagabond—a criminal—for six years. Your children deserve so much better than a woman who used to steal just so she could eat a decent meal. You deserve better than a woman who has lived on the streets wearing tattered clothes and who rarely bathed.”

  He lifted her chin with his fingers until she met his warm, blue gaze. “My children deserve someone who shows them love and who will take the time to play with them and teach them. They deserve someone who loves them unconditionally. I deserve a woman who makes me laugh and who I want to be with every moment of the day. I deserve a woman who makes me happy…and makes me feel loved more than I have ever felt before.” With both hands, he cupped her face. “We don’t care that you were a vagabond and picked pockets because we know why you did it. Your experience has made you the strong woman you are today. We don’t want anyone else. The children deserve you. And I want no other woman than the one I’m looking at now. You are the one for me, Louisa. You are the woman I love…the woman I want to love and make happy for the rest of our lives.”