“It ain’t none o’ me business,” Rosie told Saber, “but iffen ya’ve got a mind ter ’old onter Goldie, ya’d best not let ’er go back ter where I found ’er. She was like a lamb surrounded by a bleedin’ pack o’ ’ungry wolfs, she was.”
Saber glared at Goldie. “Do you know how dangerous the East—”
“Rosie got rid of Og Drit for me,” Goldie said, casting a bright smile at her new friend. “He’s a meat-monger, Saber. I learned what that is. And I learned what a bald-headed hermit is too. We don’t say that word in America, y’know.”
“Goldie!”
She looked up at him, grinning. “Well, we don’t. And it’s not in my dictionary either.”
Rosie smiled. “Then there’s some who call it the best o’ three legs, too,” she added naughtily.
Goldie giggled. “Saber, do you know what those words—”
“I know exactly what they mean!” he exploded, more anger bursting inside him at the thought of her at the mercy of East End whoremongers. “Goldie, did anyone touch you while you were there? Did any harm at all come—”
“She’s fine, Saber,” Addison intervened. “Settle down, old boy.”
Saber placed his hand on Goldie’s shoulder. “I don’t know whether to hug you because you’re safe, or shake you because you left in the first place. What could you have been thinking? What—”
“I was lookin’ for dukes.”
“In the slums? Granted, I know little about the nobility, but I’m reasonably certain you won’t find the aristocracy milling about in—”
“Saber—”
“Goldie,” Rosie cut in, “I got ter go now, luv.” She turned to Addison, smiling at him. “Obliged fer the meal, sir. Iffen there’s anything I can ever do ter repay yer kindness, ya knows where ter finds me.”
Saber looked at Rosie. Dear God, he thought. If not for the kindhearted urchin, Goldie might have been lost to him forever. “On the contrary, Rosie. We owe you a great debt of gratitude. If it weren’t for you, our Goldie might still be wandering around lost. Or...or worse.” He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and held it out to her.
Rosie’s eyes welled with tears. She looked up at Saber. “But Goldie told me ya ain’t got no money of yer own, sir. I can’t take—”
“You can and you will,” Saber insisted, taking her hand and pressing the thick roll into it. “And if you should ever need help in any way, you may contact me through Mr. Gage. Do not hesitate to do so.”
“Gawblimey,” Rosie muttered, staring down at the money. She looked up at Saber and Addison. “Black as Newgate’s knocker, I am, an’ ya let me inter yer warm, clean ’ome, feedin’ an’ treatin’ me like I was somebody special. Then ya give me money fer doin’ a simple kindness. The Lord bless ya both.”
Goldie embraced her friend and led her to the front door. “I’ll come see you as soon as I can, Rosie.”
Rosie shook her head. “Goldie, wot can ya be thinkin’, luv? Don’t ya never go back there again, ’ear? I might not be around next time, an’ then...” She broke off, and patted Goldie’s shoulder. “‘Ang onter that Saber, Goldie. An’ count yer blessins. ’E ain’t only the nicest-lookin’ man I ever seed, but ‘e’s generous, an’ ’e cares about ya. Wot more could any girl want in this bloomin’ world?”
“I—Rosie, do you really think he cares about me?”
Rosie laughed. “An’ ‘ang onter yer sweetness, too, Goldie. It’s wot yer Saber’s tryin’ ter protect, y’know. ’E knows wot London-town can do to a girl innocent as you. I’ll come see ya soon. Cheerio, now.”
Goldie nodded, and waved until Rosie was out of sight. She stood at the door for a moment thinking about what her friend had said before remembering the exciting news she had to tell Saber. Spinning around, she raced back to the parlor.
Saber was just leaving it when she got there. Her sudden and speedy arrival caught him off-guard, and he had no time at all to sidestep her. She ran straight into him. While she clung to his neck, he staggered backward, immediately toppling over a footstool. He landed, with a dull thud, flat on his back, his spill made worse by Goldie, who fell directly on top of him. “Goldie!”
She settled herself more comfortably upon his broad chest, grabbing his shirt collar so he couldn’t get away before she was ready to let him. “Saber, you just aren’t gonna believe what I decided to do! I was comin’ home with Rosie, and all of a sudden I had the greatest, idea I’ve ever had in my whole life! Duke Marion’s in Scotland, and he’s not comin’ back any time soon. So I thought we could—”
“Goldie, could we discuss this in a more proper manner? We’re on the floor, you’re on top of me, and perhaps more importantly, your knees are...well, suffice it to say, the location of your knees is making me quite nervous.”
She frowned, then smiled when comprehension came to her. She tried to maneuver herself away from the spot he was so terribly afraid for.
“Good God!” Saber shouted when her knees dug into the exact part of his body he’d tried to protect. “Goldie—”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
“Just get off so I can—”
“But Saber, I didn’t get to finish tellin’ you my plan!”
“I—”
“Y’see, we already know you look a lot like Duke Marion. You can eat, walk, and talk like a duke. And you know a lot about Duke Marion from what you’ve read in Aunt Delia’s diaries, so what I decided we’d do is—”
“Goldie—”
“We’ll go to the dukish parties, and—”
“Allow me to assist you, Goldie,” Addison broke in, offering her his hand and helping her rise.
Saber struggled to his feet, glared at Goldie, and straightened his rumpled clothes.
“Are you all right, Saber?” Addison asked, feeling genuine sympathy for his friend.
“I suspect I’ll live, but I have serious doubts about the possibility of ever enjoying the pleasures of fatherhood.”
Addison chuckled. “Your voice does sound several octaves higher.”
Goldie blew a curl out of her eye. “Saber—”
“Goldie, I’m taking you to my own house.” He looked at Addison. “I trust all is well there?” Addison’s nod told him that Mrs. Stubbs had been successful at speedily gathering a full staff of trustworthy servants for him. Too, he knew those servants had not been told who he was. “Splendid.”
“Saber, listen!” Goldie entreated loudly. “Somehow, we’re gonna get us some fancy clothes, then we’re gonna just waltz right into all those duke get-togethers! Nobody’ll say anything to us because you’re gonna tell ’em all that you’re—”
“Goldie, we will discuss this in the carriage,” he lied, his plans for the ride having nothing at all to do with talking about her harebrained scheme. “We’re off, Addison. Many thanks for your hospitality.”
Addison waved away his friend’s gratitude. “If you will excuse me?” he begged off, anxious to give Saber and Goldie time alone.
When Addison was gone, Saber swept his hand toward the foyer. “All right, Goldie, shall we leave for—”
Goldie stomped her foot, then took hold of Saber’s collar again. Pulling him down to her level, she speared him with a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re gonna be Duke Marion while we’re here, got that? We’re gonna go to the dukish parties, and you’re gonna tell everybody you’re the duke. Talk about Ravenhurst, and Dane Hutchins, and Angelica, and all those Tremayne family things. Tell everybody Scotland was full of Scottish stuff just like it always is. Maybe you could even do one of those Scottish jigs for everybody as proof you’ve been there. Saber, once you start talkin’ about stuff only the real duke could know, no one’s gonna suspect you aren’t who you say you are!”
“Goldie—”
“We’ll be so close to all those dukish folks that we’ll be able to see everything there is to see about ’em. Hell, we’ll even be able to interrogate ’em. I’m gonna be posin’ as a writer from America, y’see. I’ve
got it all planned, Saber. I’ll tell everybody I’m writin’ a book about dukish folks, and that you’re takin’ me around so I can do all my studyin’. I’m sure when they learn that, they’ll be more than happy to—”
“That,” Saber began, his lips a whisper away from hers, “is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. We are not going to—”
“Yes, we are.” She tightened her hold on his collar, keeping his face in front of her own. “It’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.”
“You will, however, pass it up.”
“Wanna bet?”
“How much?”
“A whole pound.”
Saber whistled. “I don’t know if I can afford that, Goldie. A pound is—”
“All right, then we’ll make it an ounce. Can you afford that?”
“An ounce? What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
“An ounce! An ounce of money! Great day Miss Agnes, Saber, have you been poor for so long that you don’t know how much an ounce is?”
Still bent over, Saber frowned and thought hard. “An ounce. A pound,” he murmured. “Goldie, do you think a pound is literally a pound of money?”
She saw the twinkle in his seaweed eyes and let go of his collar. It dawned on her then that a pound wasn’t what she thought it was. She knew, too, that she must have misunderstood her Uncle Asa’s explanation about English money.
Saber’s slight grin reinforced her realization. “Of course I don’t think that,” she lied, smoothing her skirts as if it were the most important thing in the world to do.
He understood her chagrin immediately, and sought to soothe it. “Ah, then you were teasing me. For a second there, I believed you didn’t know that the pound is the basic monetary unit of England.”
“Well, of course I know that,” she agreed, staring at her shoes. Reminding herself that Saber thought she was teasing him, she took a moment to get hold of her embarrassment, thankful beyond belief that he hadn’t had the chance to make fun of her ignorance. “Now, gettin’ back to the dukish fiestas—I met a Mexican once,” she informed him sassily. “He told me a fiesta is a party.”
“A dukish fiesta,” he repeated, grinning a lopsided grin. “I don’t believe I’ve ever thought of the aristocracy’s gatherings in such a way. I don’t believe I will be attending one either.”
She arched her brow. “Saber—”
“The carriage awaits us, Goldie,” he told her, taking her by the elbow and leading her to the front door. He accepted his hat from Addison’s butler, then wrapped his own coat around Goldie’s shoulders. “Itchie Bon, you too,” he told the dog, opening the door.
“Saber, why can’t you give my plan a try?” Goldie asked as he helped her into the closed coach. Miffed at him, she sat in the seat opposite from him. “What do we have to lose? We—”
“Goldie—”
“You—”
“Come here, poppet,” he instructed, reaching for her.
“No,” she argued, resisting his efforts to bring her closer to him.
“Very well, I’ll come to you.” He changed seats, holding her tightly when she tried to move to the side he’d vacated.
“Don’t touch me, Saber.”
“Why not?”
“Because when you do, I feel like bein’ nice to you. And I don’t want to be nice to you right now.”
He ignored her demands and lifted her into his lap. “You may do all the duke-spying you want from the coach window,” he told her. “I’ll take you past all the locations where the nobility gathers, and you can—”
“That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard! Why—”
“Because I say so.”
“Well, who the hell died and made you king?”
Her insulting question tickled him so thoroughly, he exploded with laughter. He thought about the time, not so very long ago, when such an unseemly query would have infuriated him. The notion made him laugh harder.
“Go on and laugh, Saber, but you’re just about as arrogant as ole E.B. back in Hazel’s Holler, Kentucky.”
Still in the throes of laughter, Saber asked, “E.B.?”
“Well, his whole name was Earl Burl, but as you can plainly hear, that doesn’t sound right. We all called him E.B. so we wouldn’t have to say his whole name. Anyhow, ole E.B. was an arrogant thing. ‘Course he had some right to his arrogance, Saber. He had this cat? Well, that cat was a direct descendent of Johnny Appleseed’s cat. Most folks only think about Johnny Appleseed’s ox, but he had a cat too. E.B. even had papers that proved his cat’s bloodlines. Now, what right to arrogance do you have, Saber West?”
Many moments passed before Saber could control his laughter. He looked at Goldie, hoping his expression looked serious. “What right? Madam, did I fail to inform you that my ancestor was responsible for naming one of the four cardinal directions? His name was Enoch West. He set out with his three friends, Samuel East, Jeremiah South, and Zachary North. The four of them—”
Goldie’s laughter cut him short. Instantly, her anger at him disappeared. “Saber, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever—”
“Nevertheless, it’s my right to arrogance.”
She reached for his hand, holding it in her lap. “Saber, I’m sorry for yellin’ at you a while ago. I didn’t mean—”
“I liked it.”
“You liked me gettin’ mad at you?” she asked, amazed.
He nodded. “I’ve seen you do many things since I first met you, but today is the first time I’ve seen you defy me.”
“And that’s...that’s not bad?”
“I admit to being taken aback at first, but I rather enjoyed seeing you stand up for yourself. It proves that with all the sugar there is inside you, there is also a bit of spice.” He drew her closer.
She watched his face come nearer, knowing in her heart it was the most handsome face God ever gave to a man. “Saber, are you gonna—”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, I am.”
Her eyes fluttered closed when his mouth touched hers. She parted her lips for him, as he’d taught her to, experiencing that sweet, hot ache when he accepted her invitation. Trembling, she reached up and slid her fingers through his ebony hair, its softness bringing to life every nerve in her palm.
“Goldie,” he whispered thickly, his kisses trailing over her chin and down to her neck. He pulled the coat from her shoulders, tossing it to the floor before pressing more feathery kisses to the creamy expanse of her upper chest.
Mindless with the desire she was only just beginning to understand, Goldie dropped her hands from his hair and ran them down to his shoulders. Tentatively, she pulled him closer to her, moaning with pure pleasure when he responded the way she wanted him to.
With swift motions, he closed the satin curtains and gently laid Goldie down on the velvet seat. His lips still grazing her neck and chest, he settled himself upon her and, adjusting himself as well as he could within the cramped space, he covered her body with his own.
She felt his need for her. It was hard. Hot. It seemed to sear through her dress, branding her belly. It frightened her, but held her spellbound. Her breath caught in her throat as she concentrated on the heady sensation the feel of his masculinity brought to her.
And then he pushed himself lower, his hands tugging at her bodice. She moaned when he took her breast into his mouth. Need swirled through her, and she knew now what it was her body craved. “Yes,” she told him. “Saber, yes.”
He needed no further encouragement. Slowly, he inched his hand up her silken calf, across her thigh, his breathing becoming labored when she opened her legs and offered freely the treasure he sought. Desire throbbed forcefully through him when he realized again that she wore no undergarments. He decided then that he would never buy her any.
Goldie’s delight began the second she felt his sensual invasion. She arched into his hand, bliss rolling through her as his fingers drove more deeply into her. The pleasure seemed never to end, but went on and on
, the ecstasy so intense, she could barely breathe as it shimmered inside her.
“Again,” he urged her, his voice rich as velvet, his hands still working their magic on her. “Again, Goldie.”
Her mind couldn’t grasp his meaning, but her body responded to his sensual command instantly. Once more the pleasure began, building steadily, taking her by surprise, filling her with a rapture too powerful to control. She rocked beneath him, clutched at his arms, wrapped her legs around him, and felt an eternity pass before the rising sensations began their slow winding spiral downward.
Before she opened her eyes, Saber moved above her again, allowing her to become accustomed to his weight gradually. He was halfway upon her, and halfway beside her, but no matter what position he attempted, he couldn’t manage to get his long frame exactly where he wanted it.
Silently, he cursed the small compartment of the carriage and made a firm vow to have a huge one custom-made.
“Saber,” Goldie whispered, opening her eyes to peer up at him.
At her whisper, he felt the arrogance she’d accused him of earlier. He’d brought her to climax twice, the ecstasy he’d given her almost more than she could bear. It had been so profound that it had stolen her voice, he mused smugly. Still smiling, he waited to hear her tell him what the glorious experience had meant to her. “Tell me, poppet.”
“You’re smashin’ me.”
* * *
Goldie pushed back the damask draperies and stared out the window of the bedroom she’d chosen as her own. The gray day suited her mood. “It’s not fair, Itchie Bon,” she fumed aloud. “He said he’d take me to all those places where dukes get together, and what does he do instead? He stays gone! It’s bad enough that he’s makin’ me do all my duke research from a damn carriage, but what’s worse is that he hasn’t even let me do that!”
Whirling away from the window, she stormed to her bed and flopped onto it. “Where the hell do you suppose he’s been goin’ for the past two days? I haven’t seen him long enough to do anything but kiss him good-bye and hello before he’s up and gone again!”
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