The words had barely left her mouth before Royce lunged at her, leading with the coat-wrapped arm. He came at her fast and furious, and Pip barely had time to take a vicious swipe at him before he crowded her back into the corner with his big body, giving her little room to maneuver. But Pip had been in tight quarters before, and wiggling like an eel, she eluded his grasp; swiftly bringing up her knee, she deliberately struck him in the groin.
Pain exploded through Royce as her knee slammed into that most vulnerable part of his body, and for one breathless moment he was certain that he was going to pass out. Despite the agonizing blow, he recovered himself quickly, but not quite quickly enough, and Pip darted out from the corner, her knife flashing as she wildly struck at his upper arm, the blade slicing through the fabric to cut the firm flesh underneath.
Royce winced, hardly able to believe that the little devil had actually wounded him. Half-furious, half-impressed with the wretched creature’s fighting spirit, he lunged after him, his hand catching hold of the boy’s coat. His fingers tightly grasping the material, Royce gave a powerful jerk that brought the boy hurtling back toward him. The instant his chest made contact with his opponent’s back, Royce snaked one arm around the boy’s neck and, despite the twisting gyrations of his prey, held the boy prisoner against him. Moving swiftly, with his other hand he reached around and, avoiding the flailing knife, finally managed to grab the slender wrist that held the weapon.
Fright such as she had never known coursed through Pip, and cursing venomously, she struggled to break away from him. It was no use. The arm around her neck was nearly choking her, and a yelp of sheer pain escaped her as the fingers of his other hand tightened with punishing strength around the wrist that held the knife.
His breath was warm in her ear as he said savagely, “Drop it! Drop it or I’ll break your damn wrist.”
Not doubting it for a second, Pip let the knife fall to the floor and she breathed a faint sigh of relief when his brutal hold on her wrist lightened. But her ordeal was not over, as she well knew, and she was already gathering her forces to continue the fight when he spun her around and began with swift, furious actions to strip off her clothing.
Ignoring the throbbing pain between his legs and suppressing the urge to half throttle the little bastard, Royce concentrated sourly on his task. The sooner the boy was stripped and in the bath, the sooner he could escape to more pleasant surroundings!
There was such violence in his actions that Pip was momentarily stunned. The worn outer coat took but a second for him to discard, and with one brutal movement, he ripped her shirt open. Suddenly galvanized by a primitive fear, not thinking about the consequences, she leaped at him, her fingers outstretched to claw his face. Her tormentor narrowly avoided the attack, and cursing under his breath, he grabbed Pip’s arms and brutally pinioned them behind her back.
They were both breathing heavily, their flushed faces inches from each other, their bodies pressed intimately together as they glared at each other. Pip was conscious of an odd tingle traveling through her body as they remained there locked together, her breasts crushed against his wide chest, her slender legs closely pressed to his muscled thighs, and it frightened her ... as did the dawning truth in his golden eyes.
“Let me go!” she spat furiously, beginning again to struggle violently.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Royce growled, not quite able to believe the evidence revealed by their intimate stance. But it was true. Through his shirt, he could feel her firm breasts pushing against his chest, and the fluid softness of the thighs locked against his was decidedly feminine! To his astonishment, he felt desire stir—as well as angry frustration. If a mere boy had been a problem, a girl was certainly going to create even more turmoil in his household!
In spite of Pip’s frantic struggles, he held her from him, staring first down into the upturned features, wondering how he could have been so blind. The delicate bone structure, the heavily lashed gray eyes, and the sinfully erotic curve to the full mouth so near his own were glaringly obvious now that he knew the truth. His eyes dropped, and a warm gleam entered their golden depths as his gaze traveled over her rose-tipped, impudent breasts. No. This was no boy.
The look in his eyes both frightened and elated Pip, and confused by her reaction to him, she took refuge in bravado. Ignoring her embarrassment, a pugnacious set to her chin, she glared at him and hissed, “Blimey! Wot’re you staring at? Ain’t you ever seen a female afor?”
His anger fading a trifle, and choosing to be amused by her insolence, he grinned down at her and murmured, “Well, yes, but never one who passes herself off as a boy. Would you care to explain yourself to me?”
“Oy don’t ’ave to tell you nothin’!” Pip replied, wishing herself ten thousand miles away, vividly aware of her naked breasts and the way his eyes strayed in that direction. “You’ve no right to do anythin’ to me!”
“True,” he answered dryly. “I suppose I could have just called the watch and let them take you to Newgate.” At the look of pure fright that suddenly crossed her gamin little face, Royce cursed and, spinning her around, marched her over to the copper tub. Speaking to the back of her head, he said grimly, “I’m going to give you a choice—you can undress and get in that tub by yourself, or I shall do it for you. Which is it to be?”
Even knowing she was beaten, something rebelled within Pip and she made one last desperate bid to escape. Nimbly twisting out of his slackened grasp, she darted toward what she fervently hoped was an outside door, but she hadn’t taken two steps before she felt the American’s strong hands close around her. If she had thought he had been angry before, there was no doubt that he was furious now!
Easily subduing her wriggling little form, he slung her over his shoulder and grimly made for the tub. Not bothering to treat her gently, he snarled, “I’ve never been an admirer of men who beat women, but you’ve made me see the distinct possibilities of its usefulness!”
Pip opened her mouth to fire back a retort, but she suddenly found herself being flung through the air and landing with a huge splash in the copper tub. Coughing and gulping, she struggled in the water, but he held her fast and, with frighteningly savage movements, made astonishingly short work of her clothing.
Royce was nearly as wet as the soggy pile of garments he had thrown on the floor by the time he finished stripping her, and looking down at her, he asked coolly, “Now then, do I have to wash you or are you going to be reasonable about this?”
Scrunched down in the tub, covering her nakedness as best she was able, Pip sent him a murderous look, but common sense told her that she had lost this particular battle. Reluctantly she nodded her wet head and reached for the bar of soap that had fallen into the tub during their struggles.
Not quite trusting her, Royce stared a moment longer, suddenly very conscious of the soft curves she was trying to hide from him. It wasn’t his habit to dally with the help, but in this tantalizing and provoking little creature’s case, he just might make an exception!
Pip was aware the instant his scrutiny changed and her mouth went dry, the vivid memory of his hard body pressed against hers as they had fought surging through her. She swallowed, suddenly aware of what a very handsome man he was, realizing for the first time how very, very attractive women might find him ... and how very vulnerable she was.
A sound from the doorway distracted him, and glancing over his shoulder, Royce wasn’t surprised to see Zachary and the servants peering around the doorframe. He cocked an eyebrow and murmured, “Yes, it’s safe to enter now. We haven’t killed each other”—he shot Pip a considering look—“yet!”
Mistrustfully watching the others file into the room, Pip muttered, “Oy don’t want them touchin’ me! Oy can wash meself.”
Thinking how very much, under different circumstances, he would enjoying bathing her himself, Royce regretfully pushed that alluring vision away and sternly asked, “Have I your word that you will not attempt to escape?”
Vig
orously Pip nodded her dark head.
“Very well, then,” he replied levelly. “I’ll leave you for the present, but I’ll want a word with you in the morning.” He shot her a hard look. “Be aware that someone will still be watching you and that all doors leading from this house are locked against you.”
Pip shrugged; let him think that would stop her! After dark, when all the servants had gone to bed, would be soon enough to effect her escape, she thought smugly, and in the meantime. . . in the meantime, she’d enjoy this new adventure—especially since he’d seen to it that she didn’t have any other choice! Flashing him a disarming smile, she quipped saucily, “Werry well, guvnor. Werry well, indeed!”
Royce almost blinked at the blinding change of expression on her face, and nodding his head, he forced himself to walk away from her. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned away. “I think everything is settled for the moment,” he remarked, facing the others. Then, acting as if he found himself in this sort of situation every day, he added, “Chambers, I shall expect you to see to it that our, er, guest does not escape. Do check all the doors.”
Ignoring the grin on Zachary’s face, Royce bowed slightly in Ivy Chambers’s direction and murmured, “Madame, forgive me for creating more problems for you, but I know that for the moment I can leave the care of the young lady in your capable hands.”
Flustered, her pretty face flushed from her exertions, Ivy bobbed a quick curtsy and mumbled, “Oh, sir! I will do my very best.”
Giving her an attractive smile, Royce nodded, and eager to escape from the increasingly troublesome dilemma created by the simple act of preventing himself from being robbed, he attempted to retreat rather rapidly from the kitchen. A thought struck him, and stopping at the doorway, he glanced back. Cocking an eyebrow at the woman in the tub, he asked, “Are you ever going to tell me your name?”
Having momentarily resigned herself to enjoying this interlude among the gentry, Pip shot him a cheeky grin. “Pip! ’at’s me name. And yours, guvnor?” she inquired boldly.
With an effort, Royce held back the urge to laugh at her audacity, but unable to resist her, he bowed slightly and murmured, “Royce Manchester, at your service.”
“Coo! And a right polite cove you can be, Royce Manchester,” Pip replied brashly.
His eyes locked intimately with hers. “I can be many things ... if it suits me.”
Pip’s breath caught in her throat and with widened eyes she stared at him, unable to move until he smiled enigmatically and left the room. Heart beating fast, she continued to gaze, as if mesmerized, at the doorway through which he had vanished, Zachary close on his heels.
There was a small silence when the two men had left, and then, somewhat uneasily, Ivy Chambers said, “Now then, Pip, you gave the master your word and we’re going to trust you to keep it. Wash yourself, and when you are done, I shall have another bucket of water warmed to rinse your hair.”
Having decided that no harm had been meant by their ministrations, Pip nodded and, after Ivy had handed her a rag, began to bathe. Once the other women had discreetly turned away and Chambers had left the room and she was allowed a bit of privacy, Pip discovered that a bath wasn’t such a terrible thing, after all. The water felt warm and soothing against her skin, and the soap, while harsh and smelling slightly of lye, did a miraculous job of removing all signs of dirt from her body. Her hair washed and rinsed by Alice, one of the younger housemaids, Pip felt so clean, she was certain she would squeak when she walked.
Clothing proved to be a bit of a problem, but the ever resourceful Ivy finally produced a blue gingham gown that she had worn several years ago. Glancing from Ivy’s attractively plump figure to the gown, Pip looked dubious.
Not the least offended, Ivy said easily, “Oh, yes, I was able to wear such a garment ... many years ago!”
The gown, as well as the meager undergarments Ivy was able to provide, was something of a novelty to Pip, and at first she was somewhat hesitant in her movements as she wandered around the big kitchen. She was watched with varying degrees of wariness and curiosity by the other women, but from the pleasant expressions on their faces and the one or two friendly smiles that had been sent her way, Pip was confident that they had no hostile intentions toward her.
Ivy’s actions a few moments later confirmed Pip’s reading of the situation. Putting a plate of bread, cheese, and ham on the table, Ivy said in a motherly tone, “It will be hours before dinner; you might as well eat this now.”
It had been hours since Pip had eaten that skimpy meal with her brothers, and flashing a grateful smile at Ivy, she sat down and delved into the food. Thoughtfully chewing a piece of excellently cured ham, she glanced surreptitiously around the kitchen, already beginning to plan her escape. An escape that, considering the unnerving effect Royce Manchester had upon her, had become imperative.
While Pip was finishing her meal in the kitchen and scheming to escape, Royce was fending off Zachary’s teasing comments in the front salon. Fixing his young relative with a stern look that was at variance with the laughter in his eyes, Royce said grandly, “Yes, yes, it does complicate matters, but just think how very worthy her redemption shall make us feel! Why, we may have saved her from a life of harlotry and salacious behavior.”
Zachary, who, like his cousin, was also very astute, looked exceedingly innocent as he murmured, “Now, why did I have the distinct impression that you planned precisely that sort of life for her?”
Zachary’s estimation of the situation cut a little too close to the bone for Royce, but he couldn’t deny he’d found the little pickpocket ... interesting! “You should watch that tongue of yours, young man,” Royce said irritably. “It is going to get you into trouble.”
“Yes, and something else of yours is likely to get you into trouble!”
Zachary’s teasing remark was unanswerable, and beyond smiling ruefully at his cousin, Royce said nothing more on the subject of Pip. Reaching for his York tan gloves where they lay on a nearby table, Royce merely said, “If you are not to dine here, inform Chambers, will you? I am going out now and don’t know when I shall return.”
“Della?” Zachary asked.
“Exactly,” Royce replied, and strode from the room, eager to escape from further questions ... and the unwanted, surprisingly erotic images of a certain cheeky little wench that drifted through his mind.
Royce’s visit to Della was quite the pleasurable experience he had hoped it would be, and if a fleeting thought of Pip as his mistress crossed his mind, he exasperatedly pushed it aside. The very idea was ridiculous! Not returning to the house on Hanover Square, after leaving a smilingly satisfied Della, Royce went in search of further amusement at one of the many gambling clubs that he patronized. Unfortunately, the news of the events at Fives Court had spread throughout the ton, and everywhere he went, he found that this morning’s occurrence was the main topic of conversation. Displeased with the notoriety the pickpocket’s advent into his life had created, he returned home and somewhat bad-temperedly retired for the night.
In spite of the drama of the day, Pip, unlike Royce, had fallen instantly asleep in the small, cramped room to which she had been assigned by Chambers. But then, Pip knew she was going to escape, and instead of fighting against her current situation, she embraced it with enthusiasm, looking upon this sure-to-be-brief time in the house of a wealthy man as a grand adventure, and she determinedly pushed all thoughts of Royce Manchester aside.
It was not too difficult a task, considering the life she had led, and while never being allowed beyond the kitchen and servants’ quarters, Pip marveled at the fine and pampered life the servants of the rich lived. Seeing the clean and neat clothing of the others made her uncomfortably conscious of the pile of filthy rags that she had worn upon her arrival. A pile of filthy rags that Ivy had thrown away with an exclamation of disgust. Slightly ashamed of her background for the first time in her life, almost reverently Pip had smoothed out the faint creases in the blue and whi
te gingham gown. The gown had never been an expensive one, nor had it ever been in the height of fashion, but to a young woman who had never owned such a garment before, the faded gown was the loveliest item she had ever worn, and she took a child’s uncritical pleasure in it.
Even the meal they ate that night aroused her admiration, food such as she had never dreamed of—tender roast lamb, the meat nearly melting in her mouth, delicately flavored peas, and deliciously creamed potatoes, as well as a variety of side dishes, but it was the sweets, the creams and tarts, that caused her eyes to nearly start from her head. And taste! Oh, Lord, she thought pleasurably as she finished her third strawberry cream, wait until I tell Jacko and Ben!
Royce’s servants were kind to her once they realized that she was going to behave, and though conversation among them all was a bit stilted and guarded, Pip lost some of her inbred hostility and contempt for them. She had always assumed that she lived the best possible life—the freedom of the streets, the lack of responsibilities—and not unnaturally, being raised as she had, she had looked down upon those who took honest employment as staid and spiritless fools. But her belief in the superiority of her life-style was being quickly eroded with every hour that she spent in Royce’s house. It was as if an entirely new world had opened up for her, and she could not quite take in the enormity of it.
As the hour had grown later, though, and it became apparent that the day’s labors were done, Pip could feel herself growing edgy. Soon she would leave this place, and as Ivy escorted her from the kitchen to the cramped room where she would sleep that night, Pip could not help one last backward glance at the kitchen. She told herself it was to memorize her escape route, but a tiny part of her acknowledged that she wanted that big, friendly room and what had happened within it imprinted on her memory.
Pip was given a room all to herself at the back of the house, just down the small hall from where Chambers and Ivy slept, and while it was hardly larger than a closet, the simple fact of never having had a room of her own made her inordinately pleased with it. As did the entirely new experience of actually sleeping in a bed—granted, the old mattress was lumpy and thin and the bed narrow, but since she had only known a blanket upon the floor, the accommodations seemed almost luxurious to her.
Whisper To Me of Love Page 9