Once Bitten (The Heart of a Hero Book 3)

by Aileen Fish

  Chuckling, Thorn nodded. “This time I’ll agree.”

  Returning to the matter of Boiselle, Adam asked, “What are you doing about Billups? Do you have men watching him?”

  “No. I haven’t heard him mentioned before this. Do you recommend surveillance?”

  “I do. He was often in and out of Boiselle’s dressing room, giving him plenty of opportunity to pass or retrieve messages. I often wondered if he was looking for something he didn’t find, given his repeated visits in one evening.”

  “If the man works at the theatre, couldn’t there be an innocent reason for doing so?”

  He’d considered that, but Billups had a way about him that made Adam’s suspicions rise. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll assign someone to watch him, then.”

  Chapter Twelve

  With his agitation building the longer he kept his promise not to keep an eye on Boiselle, Adam sought the best remedy he could, Mary Jane. Her mother babbled in excitement when he asked to walk with her. “You honor us, sir, she’d be delighted to accompany you. Mary Jane!”

  “I’m here, Mother.” She gracefully descended the last few steps of the staircase while tying her bonnet ribbons.

  Just the sight of her calmed him, and when she smiled, he nearly drew her into his arms for a kiss. “You are lovely as always.”

  He knew Mrs. Watson would take those few words and become the most sought after guest in tomorrow’s morning calls, but he didn’t care. He’d begun to believe he could promise her a future beside him. He’d have to settle for much less risky assignments, and still travel alone on occasion, but that was nothing he couldn’t bear if it meant marrying Mary Jane.

  Mary Jane’s grip tightened and she pulled him closer after they heard the door close behind them and they went on their way.

  “I still can’t give you many details, but I’m closer to being able to speak to your father.”

  She dropped his arm.

  “What did I say? I thought this was what you longed to hear?”

  She stuck her nose in the air with a hmph. “You haven’t proposed to me yet.”

  “And I won’t do so until I’m free to consider it for certain. I’m sorry, my love, it’s all I can promise.”

  “Very well.” Her small grin told him she was teasing.

  “Most of the knockers are off the doors, I see. Everyone is returning to the countryside.”

  “Yes, the heat has already become miserable.”

  “I assume your family resides here year-round?” She could take that as an insult, an assumption they weren’t as rich as many of the ton, but he doubted she would.

  “That’s correct. Charlotte is here also, so we have good company.”

  “Have you ever wanted to live elsewhere?”

  “That’s a mixed question. My income wouldn’t suffice, were I to live on my own, so the only way that would be possible is if I marry. And since I’ve only recently considered the possibility of marriage, I haven’t given it a thought.”

  “I have a cottage in Kent. It’s cooler than London in the summer, but the winters aren’t as harsh as in the north. It sits on a small piece of land with some pretty prospects. I enjoy walks there.” He chose his words carefully to not imply they were already engaged, but he was nearly ready to allow her to decorate his home to her tastes.

  “It sounds lovely.”

  “Plenty of room for children to play.”

  Her hand tightened on his arm and he smiled. Yes, he needed a family. He wanted a family. He and Mary Jane suited too well, and he enjoyed her company too much to not make whatever changes he needed to make this happen.

  Mary Jane pointed ahead. “Look, there’s Mr. Billups.” She waved as they drew closer.

  “Miss Watson, I’ve missed your company. Will you be working this new production?”

  Adam’s attention was piqued.

  “I hadn’t heard they’d started rehearsals. Who are the lead actors?”

  “Mr. Boiselle and Miss Clarke, again. Anyone of any talent has gone for the year.”

  “I won’t be returning, but I’d love to see Miss Clarke again. You might see us soon.”

  Mr. Billups tugged his hat brim and walked away.

  “Would you mind, Adam? May we stop by before returning home?”

  “I don’t see why not. It isn’t too far out of our way.” While the logical, sensible part of his mind yelled in protest, he hadn’t overcome the frustration in walking away from Boiselle.

  Hiring a hack, Adam and Mary Jane were soon at the theatre, where they entered through the back door. Voices carried from the stage, so they made their way to the curtain, Mary Jane greeting acquaintances as they passed.

  Boiselle and Miss Clarke were advanced enough in rehearsals to know their lines by rote, so opening day must be soon. Would the spy leave London when this play closed? It didn’t make a difference to Adam’s plans anymore, but he was curious.

  When the scene ended, the actors came backstage. Mary Jane rushed to greet Miss Clarke, and appeared a bit hesitant when Boiselle said hello. “Mr. Tilney, your fans must be delighted to enjoy another performance from you.”

  The actor’s chest puffed, and he smiled thinly. “Yes, they are. Will you be in the audience?”

  “I’m not certain. I would hate to miss it.”

  “You must come to dress rehearsal as my guests.” He eyed Adam, but hadn’t asked for an introduction, drawing Adam’s concern. “Thursday evening. Do come.”

  “Thank you,” Mary Jane said.

  Adam didn’t respond. Instead he took Mary Jane’s arm and left. Reaching the street where the hack waited, he helped her aboard. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to go.”

  “Why? He can’t do much with so many workers around. They know me, they would protect me.”

  “He wouldn’t do anything in the open, I agree, but I don’t trust him.”

  “Please? I haven’t watched a performance from in front of the curtain. I would dearly enjoy it.”

  Her eyes pleaded even more than her words. Adam hated to disappoint her. All he’d done since they met is tell her no, or not now. She was correct that nothing could happen unnoticed, so his fears were ungrounded. He’d be at her side, so he’d be between her and any harm. “Very well, we’ll come.”

  ~~~

  As she rode with Adam in his carriage one the way to the dress rehearsal, Mary Jane realized this was the first time they’d gone out in the evening together, instead of meeting at an assembly. Adam had stopped talking about his work and the need to wait to marry, but he hadn’t said anything to encourage her, either. As long as Father was happy, so was she.

  The theatre manager greeted them warmly, and showed them to a box in the audience. “You’ll have the best view in the house,” he said before taking his leave.

  Mary Jane leaned forward and looked at the seats below. “It’s smaller than Drury Lane, isn’t it? I never paid attention when I came onstage in rehearsals. With the bright lights, I couldn’t see past the first few rows.”

  Adam said little while they waited, his eyes sweeping the room as if someone lurked in the darkness.

  “You don’t think he recognized you, do you? Are we safe? I should have listened to you. Do you want to leave?” Her words poured out in a rush.

  He patted her arm and wrapped his fingers around her hand. “We’ll be fine. I’ll never be completely relaxed when I’m not at home. I’ve spend too long having to watch my back.”

  What a difficult life he’d lived. That he’d chosen it for himself didn’t decrease her sympathy, increasing her respect instead. No one she knew had joined the army or Navy, so she hadn’t considered the sacrifices those men and their families must endure. How lucky she was to have fallen in love with such an honorable man.

  During intermission, a young woman entered their box. “Pardon me, miss, but Miss Clarke would like you to join her in her dressing room.”

  Excitement bubbled up, but she
remembered Adam’s caution. Tilting her head in question, she waited for his answer.

  “Yes, go. You’ll enjoy seeing her.”

  Leaving her shawl on her seat, she followed the young woman down the staircase and to a door outside. She thought it odd they didn’t go by wait of the stage, as she’d often done when she worked there, but the manager might not want them in the way of the stagehands.

  When the woman turned in the opposite direction of the stage door, Mary Jane stopped and fisted her hands on her hips. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To Miss Clarke, of course.” The woman waited.

  Mary Jane turned to go back inside when a large, strong hand clamped over her mouth and an arm lifted her off the ground. She struggled, kicking, but her captor held her tightly. Once, she connected with his shin, which brought a small oomph, but didn’t slow him down.

  He carried her to a carriage, tossing her inside the open door, where another man waited. He tied a rag around her mouth, stopping her screams.

  “Quiet.” He forced her onto the seat beside him and kept his hand clamped on her arm. His fingers dug into her skin, the pain giving her something to focus on before panic completely set in. She had to remain clear-headed and watch for a way to escape.

  If she couldn’t, Adam would come for her, she was confident in that.

  The street noises got louder the longer they drove, unpolished accents shouting, babies crying. The smells grew rank, warning her they’d entered a poor area, where watchmen rarely went.

  She was in trouble.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The carriage halted with a jolt, and the man dragged her out, hauling her up two flights of stairs to a small, dirty room. Years of smoke had built up on the walls, and the floor hadn’t been swept in ages. The single room held only two chairs, one of which she was pushed into.

  “Stay there.”

  Before she could move, he produced a length of rope and tied her to the chair. He sat in the remaining chair and stared at her, his face revealing no emotions. She could easily believe he felt no emotions, ever, he seemed so cold and hard.

  How long would it take before Adam realized she was gone? And how would he ever find her? She knew he had experience in such matters, but unless he was a gypsy, he needed some clues to know where to begin.

  She should have kicked off a shoe in the alley, or bitted the hand that covered her mouth. There must have been something she could have done. But no, she hadn’t thought of anything in time, so here she sat awaiting her fate.

  The first man opened the door. “Come downstairs,” he ordered, and the other man followed him.

  She was alone, this was her chance.

  Herr chance to do what? She had no clue. In novels, the heroine remained captive until the hero arrived and saved her life. That wasn’t her nature.

  Wriggling her wrists, she tested how tight the rope was, but it burned where it rubbed against her gloves. The fabric over her fingers made it difficult to feel her way through the knot to determine which loop was where. The more she struggled, the tighter the know became.

  Adam, please hurry.

  As her frustration grew, the first tears welled in her eyes. She’d probably been gone less than an hour, and she was no longer able to squelch her panic. Why did they want her? Did they hope to lure Adam there? That was the only answer she could think of that made any sense.

  He’d worked so hard to protect her from what he did, and she’d led him into a trap. She’d never forgive herself if anything happened to him.

  ~~~

  Less than five minutes after Mary Jane left their box, Adam heard a cry which was cut short. He was instantly on his feet, bounding down the stairs. He didn’t waste time with guilt, his senses sharpening, listening for any hint of where she was.

  He threw open the door to Miss Clarke’s room, making her gasp. “Where’s Miss Watson?”

  “I don’t know.” Her brush trembled in her hand.

  “Has she been back here?”

  Miss Clarke shook her head.

  Adam checked Boiselle’s room but it was empty. He ran through the backstage area, checking dark corners and large pieces of scenery. The entire time, he listened for her cries but heard nothing out of the ordinary.

  Mr. Billups motioned to Adam from his spot near the stage door.

  “Where is she?” Adam asked.

  Billups held his finger to his lips and checked that no one paid them any attention. Then he led Adam outside and down the alley toward where Adam had spoken to Mary Jane that first night.

  As soon as they were out of sight of the stage door, Adam grabbed the smaller man’s arm. “Where is she? What have you done with her? I know you’re working with Boiselle.”

  “I’m working with you. Boiselle believes me to be on his side, but I pass along anything I learn. There’s a building he uses on Cordwainer in Cheapside. Try there first.”

  Without thanking Billups, Adam ran to the street to find a hack. He gave the driver directions as he leaped inside the carriage, and he watched the street the entire way.

  Now guilt crept in. All the should haves, the why didn’ts, leading up to the biggest question—why hadn’t he told her he loved her?

  The carriage slowed, and Adam jumped out, paying the driver. Cordwainer stretched in both directions, and he had no clue where to begin. Setting off at a run, he looked for any sign of Mary Jane. After four blocks, he was no closer to finding her.

  The kidnappers would likely have used a back entrance, if there was one, to slip her inside unnoticed. At the next crossroad, he went to the alley and worked his way back to where he’d begun.

  This was futile. He needed to find witnesses, someone on the street who share what he knew for the price of a coin. Stopping to catch his breath, Adam searched the alley in both directions for bystanders.

  “Tsst!”

  His hearing perked up.

  “Tsst!”

  He could see no one.

  A lady’s shoe dropped behind him. Mary Jane’s shoe. He looked up.

  She waved from a window on the second floor.

  Not wanting to be discovered, Adam held a finger to his lips and approached the nearest door. He heard voices within. Returning to the alley, he again looked up. This building had no cross timbers—the only thing offering any sort of foothold were some shutters hanging precariously beside the windows. They would have to do.

  How he’d carry Mary Jane back down was something he’d worry about later.

  Bracing one foot on a brick windowsill, Adam began his ascent. The corner of the first shutter held, but the next one cracked, threatening to break off completely. He found another foothold, and finally reached her window.

  “Hurry!” She perched just inside as if she was prepared to jump.

  Adam hung onto the window frame, his elbow inside, allowing him to clamp his arm down. “It’s too dangerous for you to climb. I need you to hold onto my back.”

  “How?”

  “Climb over the sill. I’ll hold you as well as I can, but you must do the work yourself. Wrap your legs around me and slide down my side, then hold onto my shoulders.”

  She looked hesitant, but when they heard a noise from downstairs, she got busy. Her grip on his shoulders wasn’t secure enough to make him comfortable, but he had no choice but to go.

  A few feet above the alley, Adam jumped. Mary Jane’s weight threw him off balance and they tumbled to the cobblestone. He quickly stood, lifted Mary Jane to her feet and led her toward where he’d been dropped off. He hadn’t asked the hackney to wait, so they might have to go quite a distance before they found another. He’d carry her if need be, just so long as she was safe.

  ~~~

  Once they were in a carriage and on their way to a better part of town, Adam released Mary Jane. He hadn’t realized how hard he’d held her in his determination to protect her.

  Then he noticed her blackened stocking beside the shoe on her other foot. “You ran all that way
without a shoe. You didn’t complain.”

  “I didn’t really notice it after the first few steps. I just wanted to go home.”

  He lifted her foot, turning her on the bench so he could see better. “You’re bleeding. I’m so sorry, my dearest. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through.” He tugged off his cravat and wrapped it around her foot.

  “You can’t apologize for predicaments I put myself in.”

  “Do you believe you can stop me?”

  She smiled, and the lines of pain on her forehead eased. “About as well as you can stop me.”

  He laughed, lowered her foot and pulled her into his arms. “We are quite the pair, aren’t we?”

  “We are.”

  “Your father is going to make demands when we arrive at your house.”

  “I must tell him I can’t marry you.”

  “You can’t?” He couldn’t believe what he heard.

  “You still haven’t proposed. A lady can’t agree to a question she hasn’t been asked.”

  “You are so stubborn, aren’t you? Stubborn, headstrong—no wait, those mean the same thing.”

  “Is this the flattery part of your proposal? It’s not very endearing.”

  The carriage was too dark to see her face clearly, but he met her gaze regardless. He wasn’t certain when it had happened, or how, for that matter, but she’d become indispensable to his happiness. He loved her more deeply than he’d thought possible. “Ah, love, what am I going to do with you? I know one thing, I’m not going to live without you. You’ve tilted my world and shaken up everything I know to be true, leaving me with only one certainty. I love you, Mary Jane Watson.”

  “That’s more like I’d hope for.”

  He lifted his brow. “That’s all you have to say?”

  “You still haven’t asked.”

  “I hadn’t heard what I’d hoped for,” he teased, leaning closer and pressing his lips to hers.

  She brought her arms up around his neck and returned his kiss with a sigh. When he drew away, she said, “I love you, Lord Adam. I’ve known from the start we suited each other well, but I couldn’t have married you without love.”