Mortified, she buried her face in her hands.
“Sarah?”
He was touching her again. She jumped.
He took her hand gently. “You’ve no need to be nervous.”
She frowned at him, and whispered, “You shouldn’t look at me in such a manner in front of the children. They can sense these things, you know.”
She gave him high marks for trying not to laugh. Only a single, low chuckle emerged before he stared at her solemnly. “I’ll do my very best.”
Yet still there was a gleam in his eyes, a knowing, wicked gleam. Not satisfied, she leaned toward him. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“You’re turning into a prude, aren’t you?”
“A prude! No, but I think there are moments that do not need to trumpeted from the rooftops.”
He smirked. Like a well-pleased rogue, he smirked. “Like you did? That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
He should be pleased. Last night he had undid her completely. And because of that, she twisted her hands in her skirt and answered somewhat truthfully. “Perhaps.”
“I’m surprised at you.”
She glanced anxiously at Nancy and whispered behind her hand. “Why? Because I believe in privacy?”
“No, because you’re letting what other people think affect your actions. How did you manage to live so peacefully for so many years if you cared what everyone thought?”
“I kept most things to myself.” Thank you very much.
He took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her wrist. “So, you’re not going to scream anymore?”
“Colin!”
“Sorry.” He stared out the window, a well-pleasured smile on his face. She sighed in defeat and wondered if he would come to her bed again tonight. She remembered the feel of his hard muscles under her hands and the feel of him inside her. That thought was so delightfully wicked, she shifted in the seat, her thighs clenching together. Her face grew hot, but all the way to St. George she was smiling.
The foundling home was a charming place with trailing white blossoms winding their way through the slats in the rough-hewn fence and a small yellow puppy barking in the yard. A Miss Pritchard appeared, introducing herself to Sarah and Nancy, and walked them inside. Sarah liked the woman well enough. She seemed so capable, with a dab of flour covering her cheek. Sarah wondered if she should say something, but decided to remain silent.
The older woman took great delight in introducing the children. They saw babies just out of their nappies, toddling about on uncertain feet, and the younger boys and girls, but there was no sign of Nancy’s young Ethan. And no sign of the mysterious Mr. Twizzlerot.
Nancy situated herself behind Colin, smiling at those she knew from Ackworth, but not once venturing out from behind her shelter.
Finally, Sarah took matters in her own hands. “Is Ethan here?”
Miss Pritchard looked surprised for a moment, but recovered. “Yes, he’s outside with Mr. Twizzlerot.” She raised her brows and whispered. “They’re having adiscussion .”
That sounded rather ominous, so Sarah donned her most vacuous expression and smiled prettily. “Would you mind terribly interrupting and bringing him here? I’m very anxious to make his acquaintance, I’ve heard so much about him.” She patted the woman on the hand. “You’ll be a dear woman and go get him, won’t you?”
Confused, but smart enough to obey a countess, the woman left.
After a few moments, Ethan appeared and Sarah was shocked by Nancy’s transformation. The girl positively glowed. Hesitatingly she moved forward, shuffling her feet, her hands twisting this way and that. The boy looked just as nervous, his face flushed, his eyes darting around the room, but they always came back to rest on Nancy.
At last they stood a mere footstep apart, now both of them staring at the floor. Nancy broke the silence first. “Hello.”
It took some time for Ethan to respond, “ ’ello,” and when he did his voice cracked.
Apparently no other words were necessary, the two young people standing there, not touching at all, their feet shuffling in some sort of primitive mating ritual.
Sarah sighed and sidled next to Colin. It was quite the most romantic thing she’d seen and when his arm curved about her waist, she rested her head on his shoulder.
“What is that chicken-breasted whore doing here?” A foppish man with a purple waistcoat appeared, pointed his finger at Nancy, and spoiled the whole effect.
Four pair of eyes settled on the horrid man.
Nancy burst into tears as well and ran outside. Ethan took a moment to punch the rude man in the stomach and then ran after the girl. Sarah waited for Colin to berate the man for such harsh language, but instead he stood there silently, a hard look on his face.
However, when Colin spoke, there was no anger in his voice, only a deadly calm. “Sarah, why don’t you find Nancy and wait outside for me. I’ll talk to Mr. Twizzlerot and be there shortly.”
She would have loved to stay, to see the ugly man receive his comeuppance, but there was a stillness about Colin that was rather frightening, and so she went to find Nancy and comfort the girl.
Colin watched the oily man, wanting to pound his own head for not having realized what was happening earlier. St. George. His pride and joy.Selling children . His gut twisted. He had tried to do something good and honorable, and all he’d done was fail. He studied the man that Nancy had recognized from the Dog and Duck. The man that had paid to have Sarah killed.
“Mr. Twizzlerot, I presume?” There was all the caginess, all the gawkiness that Harper had described. And eyes that darted like a bird.
“My lord! Welcome to St. George.”
“You’re a dead man.”
“Oh, now, let’s not be too hasty.”
Colin pulled out his pistol. “All right. I’ll kill you slowly instead.”
The man pushed up his spectacles and shook his head. “Put that away. Think what your missus would say. Killing an unarmed man.”
“She’d be quite pleased.” But he put his pistol away. He had never shot a man in cold blood before. He wouldn’t start now. The magistrate could take care of this fool.
“Now, Lord Haverwood. I’m not going to do anything to hurt your lady anymore. Give you my word. Wouldn’t do me any good, anyway.” The man motioned for Colin to sit down. “Let’s discuss this in a reasonable manner. I feel like I’ve known you for some time.” He pulled out a chair and settled himself, crossing his thin legs at the ankles. “My uncle, Sebastian, ran the orphanage for years. He heard so many stories of you from the previous Lord Haverwood.”
He should be wondering what he was going to do with the man. Should be thinking about how to summon the magistrate, but instead Colin sat forward, morbidly curious about the man who had made his life so hollow. “The old earl came here?”
“He wanted to see what you had done actually. He was quite interested. You didn’t know?”
Colin shook his head. After all that time Colin spent trying to please the old man, the man had finally come around. Giles had never said a word.
“He and my uncle were fast friends. Two old blokes sharing their miserable stories, trying to top each other’s miserable lives.”
Colin pulled at his cravat, wondering at the predatory gleam in the man’s eyes. However, Colin didn’t believe the old earl had said anything. The man would have cut out his tongue before he would admit publicly that Colin wasn’t his son. “Go on.”
Twizzlerot sat forward, his eyes large behind his spectacles. “You look rather pale, Lord Haverwood. Could I get you some tea?”
“Why don’t you say what you want and then I’ll cart you off to the magistrate.”
“Magistrate? No laws been broken. I’ve sold no brats yet.”
Colin closed his eyes and fought for control. He could kill the man so easily and feel no remorse. Instead, he focused on the one good thing in his life: Sarah. “And what of your attempts to murder my wife?”
<
br /> “Well, posh. What’s a few bad mistakes between friends? Besides, if you notify the authorities, Lord Haverwood, I’ll see you and you lovely wife ruined.”
“There’s nothing you can do that would touch either one of us.” Colin met the headmaster’s eyes evenly, determined to give nothing away. The man was bluffing.
“Oh, yes, there is. You see, my lord, I know who your father really is.”
Sarah sat in the carriage, feeling as useless as a second set of thumbs as Ethan comforted Nancy.
“Don’t you worry none, I’ll call the man out. Can’t be listening to such nonsense.”
Nancy cried harder and Sarah wondered if it really was all nonsense. It certainly explained much, except for one important piece of the puzzle: How Nancy knew Twizzlerot.
Then she remembered the day Colin had brought Nancy home. The day he’d been to the Dog and Duck to meet Mr. Harper.
The child-selling at Ackworth. And the cold look in Colin’s eyes. Was Mr. Twizzlerot selling the children at St. George? Sarah shivered as she thought of the way Colin had stared at the gangly man. That did seem the most likely conclusion.
With a pained heart, she watched Nancy’s shaking shoulders and hoped Mr. Twizzlerot would pay dearly. The bastard.
Nancy looked at Ethan and began to sob even harder. “Please go away, Ethan. You’ve got chores.”
Sarah eyed the tattered rag the boy was using to wipe Nancy’s face and took her kerchief out of her reticule. “Ethan, could you take this and dip it in the well?”
Ethan raised his chin, and stared her in the eyes, and she realized the boy was going nowhere.
He pulled Nancy closer. “Bugger me chores. You need me.”
The girl sniffed, and when she looked at him, her blue eyes were desperate, tears spilling down her face. “I’ve been very bad.”
Quietly, Sarah slipped out of the carriage, and neither one noticed. It would be some time before Nancy’s scars would heal, and Sarah only hoped Ethan was up to the task.
Colin’s fingers found the handle of his knife, the cold steel comforting. His instincts were simply to kill the man. No one would be the wiser. In that manner, all the bad things Twizzlerot had done would be avenged. Wasn’t that what a true DragonSlayer would do?
Yet the man sat in his seat, gloating, secure as a goose after Christmas, his purple cravat wound around his neck just like a bow. Why couldn’t the damned man have a weapon, a rock, anything? Yet he only sat there, looking like a foolish bird. Firmly, Colin clasped his hands in his lap. He had no stomach to butcher such a spindly-legged goose in cold blood. “What do you want?”
The man steepled his fingers and peered at Colin owlishly. “Absolutely nothing. You leave me in peace. If you’re the benefactor for St. George, I’ll accept that, and leave you and your missus alone. Wanted to do this for some time. I’ve been poor for far too long. Mr. Hardiston tells me in no time at all, I’ll have a profitable business.”
A cold wave of disgust swept over Colin as he actually considered the proposal. He stared at the faded planks in the floor where, over time, the afternoon sun had turned the wood pale with no substance or color whatsoever. That was the life he had had before. A lonely existence that he would not go back to again. “And you’ll turn girls into whores, apprenticing boys to the sweeps?”
“Very much so. Quite simply, it’s a nice wage. Have to wait until the girls come of age, but once they are twelve, it’s all perfectly aboveboard and honest.”
“You tried to have Sarah killed.”
“And I wasn’t very good at it, was I?” Twizzlerot grimaced. “All’s well that end’s well, though. Thank heavens she’s alive, and because of your quick thinking, all the bad men are dead. It’s just the two of us now, Lord Haverwood. I’d like you to continue as the benefactor.”
Colin sat stiffly, still considering the man’s words and hating himself for it. “I should kill you.”
“That’s what Cady would have done.” He paused for effect. “But you’re not like him at all, are you?”
“More than you’d like to believe.”
The man outstretched his legs and wiggled his longboat feet. A buffoon, nothing more. A buffoon who could destroy Colin’s life, destroy Sarah’s life as well. Everyone would know who he was. He had to protect Sarah from that. She was his wife, his love, his life.
“Why don’t you think about what I said? Have a picnic with your pretty wife. My, my, think of how disappointed she would be.”
Yes, she would be ruined, damaged far beyond what her father had done. He didn’t know what she would do when she discovered who his father was. Sarah was brave and bighearted, but when she realized whom she had married, would she stay? Would she stare when he wasn’t looking, trying to find the resemblance? Would she want children, knowing the blood they would carry? He really didn’t want to find out.
Tired and wishing he were somewhere else, Colin stood and walked to the door, once more touching his father’s knife, once more tempted to let the blade fly and let fate decide where it landed.
No, he was too much of a coward. Instead he faced Twizzlerot, a last show of bravado. “I’ll return with your answer.”
The man laughed and bowed mockingly. “I already know your answer. You don’t have a choice.”
When Colin appeared, Twizzlerot sauntering behind him, Sarah ran up the walk. “He’s the one, isn’t he? Should we go to the authorities?” She tugged at his arm, but he merely shook off her hand. What was wrong?
“Where’s Nancy?”
Sarah nodded toward the carriage.
“Get in then, Sarah. We’re going home.” Colin’s eyes were hard and cold, and Sarah shivered.
“After what he’s done? He’s been selling the children, hasn’t he? Just like at Ackworth.”
“I haven’t broken any laws. I’m an innocent man, just a businessman,” replied Mr. Twizzlerot, grinning like the devil.
Colin faced the man, his fists bunching, and Sarah waited for him to plant a facer, right in the man’s smug little grin. Instead, his hands fell to his side. “A businessman who tried to kill my wife. Don’t test me, you little bird.”
“Kill me? Why?” Sarah stared, puzzled by Colin’s strange behavior and the horrible man’s confidence.
“Because if I wasn’t married, the accounting firm of Wyndham would take charge of St. George.” Colin turned to Twizzlerot. “I am assuming you have business dealings with Mr. Wyndlam?”
“Oh, yes. Quite an affable man. He is as fond of the children, as I am.”
Sarah found her tongue at last. “Now, wait a moment. Both of you.” She pointed a finger at Twizzlerot. “You tried to kill me?”
For the first time, the man looked shamefaced. “Actually, I paid someone to kill you. Well, I haven’t actually paid him yet. Of course, considering the botched job that he made of it, I think I’m justified. And don’t worry, my lady, I’ll do you no harm. Not anymore.” He grinned at Colin. “Me and the earl, we have an understanding now.”
No!The vile man should be punished. Sarah turned her attention to Colin. “How will you stop him then? You did dismiss the man, at least didn’t you?” Colin stared ahead, not looking at her. What had happened? “If you didn’t, I will.” She marched up the path, ready to confront Twizzlerot, but Colin caught her arm and twisted her around.
“Sarah, let’s go home.”
“Not until you tell me what happened in there.”
“We’re leaving.”
She shook her arm free. “I will not leave until you tell me what will happen to that wretched man.”
Colin ran a hand through his hair and pulled his cravat loose. He looked so beaten, so sad. “I don’t know.”
She stared at him, trying desperately to understand. “What has happened to you? You’ve walloped men who’ve insulted me. You’ve saved Nancy from only God knows what. You’ve bought up markers from half the ton in order to protect me. And now, there’s an awful, little man who sold children”—i
t sickened her to think about it—“childreninto squalid existences, and you’re going to protect him.”
“He hasn’t sold any children, Sarah.”
“But that’s his plan, isn’t it? Just like at Ackworth. Deny it!”
“Sarah, please. Will you trust me?”
How could he even talk of trust? “No! You’re not the man I married at all.”
“You don’t know the man you married.”
She stamped her foot, wishing it was Twizzlerot’s face she was destroying. “Oh, yes, I do. Very well. He’s honorable, and brave, and does the most wonderful things, simply because they’re right. He has more courage than an army of knights.”
“You’ve been deceived. It’s time you realized it.” He spoke coldly, with no emotion whatsoever.
“I have always believed in you,” she said, pleased when he winced at her words.
“Twizzlerot will ruin your life, Sarah. And mine as well.”
“How?” There it was. That dark cloud that hovered around him. What the devil was he hiding, and why wouldn’t he trust her?
He stared off in the distance, stubbornly silent. “We should go. It’s getting late.”
He had said he loved her, just not enough to tell her the truth. That hurt most of all. Knowing she was beaten, she gave up and walked away. “Very well.”
Cornelius leaned against the doorjamb and watched the Haverwood carriage rumble away, admiring the fine side trim, and the elegant lines. He was quite pleased with the day’s events. The earl was sitting firmly in his pocket. He smiled at the sun, picked a white rose from the garden, and even patted the pup on its fluffy head. He stuck his thumbs in his canary waistcoat pockets; soon he’d be able to sport fancy fobs, perhaps gold buttons. No more linsey-woolsey for himself; now he could afford a bottle-green frocked cutaway coat. Like Brummel. He could picture himself, strutting through the London streets. He’d buy himself a cane! Yes, the very picture of a cit.
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