When the door clicked softly closed, she reached for the plate, frowning at the dirt under her fingernails. Even Jeremy’s Hessians gleamed, she thought with a sigh and rose to wash her hands in the bowl near the bed. Then she made the mistake of glancing in the mirror above the washbowl and groaned. Her hair was in wild disarray around her dirt-streaked face and the black wool cape had patches of mud all over. It looked as though she had been wallowing in a pen with a dozen piglets all night. Grumbling about how Jeremy always stayed so clean and tidy, she untied the cloak and threw it aside.
Locating a hair brush beside the washbowl, Evie worked to contain the wild beast on top of her head. Then she cleaned her face and anything else that looked dirty, which was quite a lot of her body, unfortunately. She removed the red cloak and threw it on top of the black one and frowned at what the mirror showed her. The red dress Montague insisted she wear left nothing to the imagination.
No longer ravenous, Evie went to the bed and ate anyway. She slowly chewed each bite, trying to understand everything that had happened. First in her mind was the fact Montague wasn’t Viper. What did that mean? She lifted the chocolate to her lips and took a sip, not really tasting the delicious beverage. Then a realization dawned and she nearly dropped the thin cup. To learn Viper’s true identity, she would have to face Montague once again. Her hand went to the vial still wrapped around her middle. Now more than ever did he need a dose of the serum.
Montague would know she saw his horrid occult practices and knew about the prisoners he kept. Evie placed the cup aside and shivered. The man would want her dead.
Shaking her head, Evie tried thinking of something else. Of course, her thoughts would stray directly to Jeremy. She frowned over at the closed door. He had many things to answer for, including the identity of the man hurt in his bed. She didn’t think it had been a ruse. Dr. Benson had clearly been very upset. Surely, the man wouldn’t have reacted in such a manner if it had been a deception.
And why would Jeremy speak of marrying her, even a false marriage? The thought still sent a shooting spasm of excited delight through her. She frowned down at her mostly uneaten plate, set it back on the table, and sucked in a breath as the answer to her last question became painfully clear. Jeremy had obviously reached the same conclusion she had about her not being safe. Evie saw too much, could identify too many people in those caves. Even if Montague could no longer be a threat to her, many others were and would want to see her dead.
A crash, followed by a woman’s muffled curse made Evie nearly jump out of her skin. She rose to her feet, then opened the door.
“Oh, do pardon me, my lady.” A blonde woman was hunched down, picking up shards of a broken teacup. “My fingers are made of butter today.” She rose awkwardly to her feet and smiled. “Did you have enough to eat?”
Evie knew her mouth had dropped to the floor. A woman stood there, not only stunningly beautiful, but was heavy with child. “Er, yes, quite enough, thank you.”
The woman’s coral pink lips widened into a smile. “I am glad to hear that. My name is Judith. May I get you anything else?”
Evie glanced down at her revealing gown and noticing several soot stains and the ring of mud around the hem. She wondered what the woman thought of her. Then she lifted her head, wanting very much to ask the questions shooting through her mind, but bit them back. Her gaze flickered down to the woman’s belly, thinking that perhaps, she didn’t want to know, and backed up a step.
Judith’s pale brown brows crashed together. “Are you feeling all right?” The corners of her sky-blue eyes crinkled with concern. “You don’t look well. Perhaps you didn’t get enough rest?” She shook her head. “I told Jeremy not to wake you so soon.”
Jeremy? Not Lord Fielding?
Evie backed up another step. Before she could turn and dart back into the room, another beautiful woman, this one with dark hair spilling down in glossy waves to her waist, walked toward them, holding a bundle of dresses in her arms. “I told him the same thing, Judith.” She gave an irritated sigh. “He just doesn’t listen.” Then she glanced over and smiled. “I am Priscilla and you met Judith already.” She nodded toward the stairs. “Mary and Caroline are downstairs.”
This was too confusing. Evie pressed fingers to her temples, feeling an ache developing. Who were these beautiful women and how did they know Jeremy? Who happened to be a notorious rake.
Oh, this wasn’t good.
Priscilla must have read Evie’s thoughts and her smile froze in place. “Jeremy didn’t explain?” Her gaze flicked up to the ceiling, then she shook her head, before glancing back with sober, sincere green eyes. “We are not his mistresses, if that is what you are thinking, Lady Evie.”
Judith nodded, her wide, blue eyes solemn. “It’s true, my lady. Jeremy saved us.”
“Saved you? What do you mean?” Evie asked, unable to help herself.
“Eight months ago,” Judith began with a tremor in her voice, “I became governess to Lord Sheffield’s five children.” She closed her eyes, her brows pressing together. “The job lasted but ten days. Just long enough for him to…to…”
Priscilla shifted the clothes in her arms and reached out to pat Judith’s shaking shoulders. “Do not think of it, dear. You will never have to go back there.”
Rubbing the tears from her eyes with the base of each hand, Judith nodded. She sniffed and glanced back at Evie with red, swollen eyes. “Jeremy learned what had happened from Lady Sheffield’s friend, Lady Wesley. He found me three days later and brought me here. I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me if he hadn’t.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I will be grateful for Jeremy’s help till the day I die.”
With a proud smile, Priscilla set her shoulders. “When the ladies are ready, Jeremy and I find them new homes. Good homes. Some work as housekeepers or governesses.” Her smile grew. “Some are even married now with children. We have assisted fifty-three women in the last four years and I am certain we will assist many more.”
Evie opened and closed her mouth several times. She didn’t know what to say, what to think. This was an entirely new side to Jeremy, one she never knew existed, and it was so completely different than the carefree rogue he portrayed to the world. Which happened to be a necessary ruse for being a Guardian.
So, then, who was the real Jeremy? Did Evie really want to know? She shuffled back half a step, uncertain. Because now that she knew Jeremy wasn’t the selfish rake who enjoyed ruining innocent young women, who flirted outrageously in hopes of debauching conquest after conquest, she would have to face a truth. Something Evie couldn’t think about. Not yet. She refused to let herself have any hope where Jeremy was concerned.
“Well, then. Let me explain why I have these,” Priscilla said, holding up the dresses. “Jeremy asked me to find you some clothes.” Her lips twitched as she raked her eyes up and down Evie’s body. “His description was, as usual, exact. These should fit you perfectly.”
Glancing down at the muddy hem around her feet, Evie swallowed back her refusal. Instead, she reached for the dresses. “Thank you,” she said and walked back into the room to change. She had too much to think about. That had always been a dilemma for her. When there was a problem, Evie would mull it over, consider every angle, and ponder it until her head hurt. This would go on for however long it took to reach the best solution.
Unfortunately, there had not been a good solution for stopping the love she felt for Jeremy. Not until Belle offered her a position with the Guardians. And now, things were growing even more complicated where Jeremy was concerned.
With a deep sigh, she threw the dresses onto the unmade bed and kicked off her mud-splattered shoes. Thankfully, she found a pale lavender day dress with white rosebuds embroidered along the hem and wrists that had mother-of-pearl buttons lining the front. The pretty dress required no assistance to get into. After ripping Montague’s awful red dress from her body, she retied the silk purse at her waist, then slipped into the lav
ender day dress. Of course, it fit perfectly, and she frowned, remembering Priscilla’s words earlier.
Her hair was another matter. With a frown at her reflection, Evie wondered what to do about keeping the curls out of her eyes. Glancing around, she found a white silk ribbon and managed to tie her hair back at the nape of her neck. She even managed a neat bow with the ribbon. It wasn’t one of Alice’s fancy twists, but it would suffice. A pang of regret hit her heart when she thought about losing her mother’s ruby and pearl combs. She had worn them so little in her life, not wishing to damage them, and now they were gone forever. Taking them to Montague’s estate had been a horrible mistake. Going to Montague’s estate at all had been a horrible mistake, she silently corrected, and had to pinch some color back into her pale cheeks.
Something in the mirror caught her attention and Evie turned around. She walked to the burgundy leather wingback chair in the shadowy corner, her gaze fixed on the drawings neatly stacked on the table beside the chair. Four pieces of charcoal in various lengths protruded out of a clay jar next to the drawings. Picking up the thick sheets of parchment, she found Montague’s estate captured in stunning detail. From the worn edges of the slate roof tiles to the uneven rough texture of the gray stone exterior, it had been captured to perfection. She bit the inside of her lip, knowing Jeremy had to have been the artist. Evie also had to admit, the man was incredibly talented.
The next picture revealed the cave system with a notation at the margin that explained the proper combination for moving in and out of the labyrinth without getting lost. Jeremy had the most beautiful handwriting, she thought, eyeing the tight, even script. She considered how those long, tapered fingers would hold a piece of charcoal and smiled as she envisioned his reaction to the sooty marks on his pristine skin. Perhaps he wore gloves, but she found none on the table. Several more pictures in the stack showed the tapestry that hid the entrance of the caves, the interior of Montague’s study, and an exact likeness of Lars in full bulldog scowl. All were expertly done and none seemed rushed or lacking in detail. It was incredible to think he must have drawn them in a matter of hours, not days. Had the man slept at all?
Then Evie came to the last page and gasped out loud, nearly dropping the thing to the floor. The drawing showed her as she slept. Lying on her side, with her face buried in the pillow, her lips were parted and an errant curl rested against her cheek. Glancing from the chair to the bed, she knew Jeremy sat there and drew her during the night. She studied the careful strokes and the precise shading, wondering why he would do such a thing?
Something, perhaps a slight shift in the atmosphere, made her look up. Jeremy stood with his back against the closed door, watching her. She held up the picture of her. “What is this?” Of all the questions to ask, that had to be the first one.
His eyes dipped down then slowly back up. He gave nothing away in his steady gaze. That made Evie want to scream. She marched up to him and held out the paper. “Why did you draw this? Could you find no other subject to practice your skills? What about Priscilla? I imagine she would have been willing enough.” She stopped herself from going any further down that thorny path and rocked back on her heels. Guardians did not behave in such a manner. They had secrets and did not pry in each other’s business. Nor did they act like jealous fools. Belle would not be happy right now.
Still no response from Jeremy. Taking a deep breath, Evie shook her head. Then she spun around and took the drawing back to the table, smoothing out the crinkles as best as she could manage. Taking one last glance down at the incredible artwork, she straightened. “That was rude of me. I apologize.” She backed away from the table and turned, her eyes unable to meet his. “We should send for Ghost and Belle and discuss what to do next.” Having stalled long enough, she lifted her gaze back to his, wishing she could read his thoughts. “They must be informed Montague is not Viper, and we must learn what Elder wants to do about it.” She heaved out a sigh. “I know when I return home, I will be in a great deal of danger. Not only from Montague, but from the other men who saw me in those caves. I know too much. Therefore, I should either pretend to marry Ghost or leave immediately for France—”
“No,” he said softly.
She opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but Jeremy unfurled his arms and pushed away from the door. He walked right up to her and placed his palms against her cheeks, searing her skin with the shocking awareness of his touch. She shivered and swayed slightly toward him, as though her body had a traitorous mind of its own. His green-gold eyes burned with an intensity she never saw before, then his lips came down over hers. And she was fully engulfed in the heat of him, the feel of him, the scent of him.
Her eyes slid shut and the world fell away. She followed wherever led. His tongue slid along hers and he angled his head so he could dive in deeper. He tasted of mint and cherries and some unique spice all his own. She couldn’t get enough of him and pressed closer, opening up to him fully. With a groan of satisfaction, he advanced, twirled, and retreated. Over and over. In slow, agonizingly slow, movements. Her bones melted to her ankles and she could have floated away. She slid her arms up around his neck to hold on, to anchor herself to earth. To him. Then he pulled her close, and Evie could feel the hardness of his growing need press against her belly. The very core of her pulsated with a wicked demand that no virgin should understand. But she did, and God help her, she wanted him there. Needed him there.
Nothing had ever felt so blissful and tormenting at the same time. His hand moved down to her breast and she arched against him, wanting so much more. Wanting to feel his hot, bare skin against hers. Wanting him to kiss her everywhere. Wanting him.
Wanting Jeremy.
Jeremy!
Evie wrenched herself away, breathing in deep gulps of air. “We shouldn’t have done that,” she choked out and shook her head. This was no good. How cruel of him to kiss her and make her want him so much, only to…to… What? To break her heart once again?
The thought made her groan. She wheeled around, knowing she had to get away from him. For her very survival, she couldn’t spend one more minute alone with this man.
He stepped around to face her, then he reached out and nudged her chin up with a finger, forcing her to look at him. “I want you.”
Those softly spoken words nearly made her swoon. She stiffened as he leaned forward, his warm mint breath caressing her swollen lips. “And I will have you. Soon.” Then he took a step back and nodded toward the door. “I have secured a carriage. It’s waiting outside.”
Evie knew if she went anywhere with Jeremy, especially alone, it would have but one ending. He would get what he wanted from her, never mind she would gladly give it, but then he would move on. And she wouldn’t. Again. Only this time, it would be worse. This time she would give him her heart and body. Her entire being. There would be nothing left, and not even missions with Belle could distract her from the devastation of Jeremy’s rejection.
She straightened her spine. “I am not going anywhere with you.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Montague has certainly begun the hunt for you and will not stop until he finds you. I mean to keep you safe, little bird.”
“It’s Falcon, not little bird.” She crossed her arms. “You recall I am a Guardian now? I can keep myself safe.”
A pained shadow passed over his eyes. “Giselle had been a Guardian for three full years,” he said quietly. “They pulled her body out of the Thames with her throat cut all the way to the neckbone and a silver Viper dagger buried in her heart. I wondered about the pentagram branded on her forehead, but that has just been answered.”
Evie jerked back, horrified.
Jeremy pulled her into his arms, his warm hand moving up and down her chilled body. “I am sorry to be so blunt, Evie, but you should fully understand the danger you are in.” His lips moved across her temple and his breath stirred her hair. “If we hurry, we can be in Gretna Green in two days.”
Chapter 14
> It was a rather odd feeling, being married. Jeremy supposed it felt odd because he had fought against it for so long and when the time came to make use of those blasted vows, he had to fight equally hard to get it done. He glanced over at his tight-lipped new wife and couldn’t help a lazy grin from spreading across his lips. For the entire journey to Gretna Green, then to London, she spoke only to say her vows. Snarled them, actually. The poor anvil priest kept wiping the sweat from his brow throughout the ceremony. Then Evie told the rather large blacksmith not to call her Lady Fielding, which nearly made the man swoon. And that was all she said as they rattled back down the bumpy, dusty roads.
Jeremy had managed to hire outriders to watch and guard the carriage from Montague’s men or any other nefarious person wishing to set upon them. He meant what he said about keeping Evie safe, although he would not examine too carefully why the thought of losing her brought such anguish.
Jeremy glanced out the carriage window and saw the familiar row of town houses sliding by. His only regret was he hadn’t given her a proper wedding. Because he couldn’t risk Evie’s life by waiting three weeks for banns, nor waste time locating a blasted bishop or archbishop to procure a special license, he had no other recourse but to marry her in Scotland.
His hand moved over the document in his pocket as he considered how Evie would react when she learned they were good and truly wed. The paper crinkled beneath his fingertips. No doubt, she would be furious. But there wasn’t anything she could do. She certainly couldn’t obtain an annulment. He grinned at his reflection, the sparkle of the blue diamond in the center of his cravat catching his attention. She would have to prove a certain part of his anatomy didn’t rise to the occasion, which he could easily disprove. His gaze slid over to her stony reflection. Hell, he could disprove it now.
Leaning back against the seat, he closed his eyes. In all honesty, he was damn glad for the charade to be over. The constant teasing, flirting, and plying the charm became exhausting at times. Something did concern him, though. He cracked open his eyes and, from between his lashes, studied Evie’s pale oval face and drawn brows. She did not wish to give up her seat at the Guardian table. Which led to the next thing that bothered him. Elder’s reaction. Guardians did not marry.
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