A Dangerous Temptation (Bow Street Brides Book 5)

by Jillian Eaton

  “It got him out of London, didn’t it?” Owen pointed out. “Besides, it was your idea.”

  “I know.” Grant’s fingers dug into the tense muscles at the nape of his neck. “But between Reinhold’s murder and Lady Amelia’s assault, I feel like there’s something we’re missing. Some piece of the puzzle we’re not putting together.”

  Crossing his arms, Owen leaned back against a bookcase. “You may be right. I don’t know how the two crimes would be connected, but if they are Kent would be the common measure. I know you’ve absolved him of any wrong-doing, but I’m still not convinced.”

  “Why not? You have to admit he’s been better these past few weeks,” Grant pointed out. “I haven’t seen him touch a bottle or smelled whisky on his breath in nigh on a fortnight.”

  “He has been less violent,” Owen acknowledged. “Less unpredictable as well, and he solved the Manheim mystery in less than two days.” After a man who had supposedly been dead for the past decade suddenly started taking out bank notes the Runners had been left scratching their heads. It wasn’t until Kent had reviewed the case and tracked down the man’s brother – his identical twin brother – that they realized what was going on. “But that doesn’t mean he hadn’t anything to do with Reinhold’s death.”

  Scowling, Grant used a crystal decanter to top off his brandy. “The Slasher murdered Reinhold, not Kent.”

  “We don’t know that for certain.”

  “We can bloody well take an estimated guess.”

  “The Slasher has never killed a man before.”

  “That we know of.”

  The two men glared at one another.

  “One thing is clear,” Owen said after a tense pause. “We have a better chance at hunting that sadistic monster without Kent here to bring emotion into it. As long as you’re certain he doesn’t pose a threat to Lady Amelia, then we’ll leave him where he is for now.”

  “He would never hurt her in a thousand years. You should have seen the way he looked at her. The poor devil’s smitten. I’ve no doubt she is the one responsible for his improved demeanor. And she’s just as taken with him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they skipped over to Gretna Green before all was said and done.”

  Owen snorted. “Kent marry again? I’ll believe it when I see it. In the meantime, I want to redouble our efforts to track down The Slasher. If the bastard’s still in my city I want him found before he slices up some other poor soul.”

  “You want who found?” Juliet glided into the study with Scarlett right behind her.

  Side by side the two women made a fetching pair. One with flaming red hair, one with silky blonde. One a thief turned lady. The other a lady turned commoner. And both with identical expressions of annoyance on their faces.

  “You told us you were coming in here to discuss horses,” Scarlett chided gently as she went to her husband and slipped her arm through his. Instantly Owen’s entire expression softened as he gazed down adoringly at his little wife.

  “You can’t put two Runners in the same room and not expect them to talk about their work,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Flicking a glance at Grant, the message in his eyes was clear: they were not to discuss anything to do with The Slasher in front of their wives.

  Grant gave a clipped nod of agreement. He’d allowed Juliet into the darker, more dangerous side of his life because, well, because there’d been nothing he could do to stop her. The woman did as she pleased. She always had. But he’d be damned before he let her have anything to do with The Slasher. He wanted to keep her as far away from that madman as possible. He would put her in one of the holding cells at Bow Street if he had to, and deal with the consequences later. Because there was nothing – nothing – that would stop him from protecting what was his. And what was soon to be his, he thought silently as his gaze dipped to her belly.

  She’d told him last night she was expecting. In the middle of dinner, of all times, while she’d been passing him a bowl of peas dipped in cream. And he’d been so shocked he’d dropped the entire thing onto the floor. Bloody peas everywhere, but his only concern had been Juliet.

  “Are you certain?” he’d said hoarsely.

  “I think so.” She’d shrugged, calm as could be while he felt as if his entire world had just tipped on its axis. “I’ve never been pregnant before, but I’ve also never missed my monthlies twice in a row.”

  “We’re going to have a baby?” He hadn’t known why he made it sound like a question when she’d just told him the answer. Probably because there was a dim buzzing in his ears and he wanted to make certain he’d heard her correctly.

  “We’re going to have a baby,” she’d confirmed with an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Are you happy?”

  Happy? He’d felt as if he were ready to jump over the bloody moon.

  They were going to have a child.

  A little girl with her mother’s spirit or a little boy with his father’s stubbornness.

  He hoped it was a girl.

  “Why don’t we take an evening stroll down the lane to the park?” he suggested now. “The rain looks as though it’s going to hold off.”

  “That sounds lovely,” said Scarlett. “Doesn’t that sound lovely, Juliet?”

  “Indeed,” Juliet agreed sweetly. Then her eyes narrowed. “After you tell us what you were discussing.”

  “An ongoing case.” Owen patted his wife’s hand. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

  “Owen Steel, don’t you dare attempt to placate me.” Releasing her husband’s arm, Scarlett fisted her hands on her hips. “We know you were talking about The Slasher. Do you have a new lead?”

  One glance at the ire in Scarlett’s gaze as she glared up at Owen and Grant took a discreet step in the opposite direction. He knew that look. He knew that look very well. It was the one he wouldn’t wish upon his worst enemy. Then he glanced at Juliet, and winced when he saw she was staring at him in a similar fashion.

  “Sweetheart–” he began, but she cut him off with a snort.

  “Do not try to sweetheart me. You promised the baby wouldn’t interfere with my work on Bow Street.”

  “I know I did, but this is different–”

  “Oh,” Scarlett gasped in delight. “You’re having a baby?”

  Juliet blushed. “We – we just found out. I was not going to say anything yet, but…” She scowled at Grant. “This is your fault.”

  He blinked at her. “How the devil is this my fault?”

  “Congratulations, old chap,” said Owen, slapping a hand on Grant’s shoulder.

  “Thank you.” He turned to his wife. “Juliet–”

  “You think he murdered Lord Reinhold, don’t you?” she interrupted. A red eyebrow arched. “The Slasher.”

  Grant raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “The case is not open for discussion.”

  “Why not?” Juliet demanded.

  “Yes, why not?” Scarlett echoed. “Did you ever stop to consider we may have some valuable insight? The Slasher murders women. And, as it so happens, we are women.”

  “Although he did kill Lord Reinhold. Who was most definitely a man, albeit a weak one.” Juliet tapped her chin. “Why do you think that is?”

  “It might have simply been a crime of passion. Reinhold could have found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he was killed in his foyer, which indicates The Slasher sought him out on purpose.” Scarlett pursed her lips. “Perhaps they knew each other?”

  “Or they had a mutual acquaintance.”

  Grant and Owens’ gazes intersected over the top of their wife’s heads. Wisely, both men kept their mouths shut.

  “Reinhold was the stuffy sort.” Before she’d married the captain of the Bow Street Runners, Scarlett had been the toast of the ton. She knew everyone, from the lowliest baron to the wealthiest duke. “He wouldn’t have associated with a common street thug. Which means The Slasher must have traveled in one of his circles.” />
  “Perhaps he’s a member of the clergy?” Juliet suggested. “Lily did say he spoke about sins of the flesh when he attacked her.”

  “Maybe.” But Scarlett didn’t sound convinced. “That would certainly explain why he murdered all of those prostitutes. Why Reinhold, though? He doesn’t fit at all.”

  “Neither does Hannah Kent. She was a married woman without any scandal.” Juliet drummed her fingers along her jawline. “It’s odd, isn’t it?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The connection between Hannah and Lord Reinhold. She was married to Kent, Kent beat Reinhold within an inch of his life, and they were both killed by The Slasher, albeit five years apart.”

  Scarlett frowned. “You don’t think–”

  “No. Kent would have never killed his wife. Besides, he has multiple alibis for when the other murders took place. There’s no way he could be The Slasher. But someone is.” Juliet’s mouth thinned with determination. “All we have to do is find who links Hannah, Reinhold, and Kent together.”

  “All right,” Owen interceded gruffly. At his wife’s arch look, he sighed and reluctantly nodded. “You’ve proven we were wrong to exclude you. In two minutes you’ve put together more clues than we have in the past two months.”

  Scarlett smiled smugly. “I’m not going to say I told you so because that would be petty and immature. But, well, I did tell you so.”

  “There’ll be no living with them after this,” Grant said dryly. But when he looked at his wife, his eyes were filled with pride. “Why don’t we take that walk, and you can tell us how you plan to catch The Slasher. Because I’m sure you have a plan.”

  Juliet nodded enthusiastically. “Of course we do.”

  Gliding past, Scarlett paused and winked at him over her shoulder. “Women always have a plan.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Later that evening at Webley Castle…

  Vanessa frowned when she saw Tobias enter the dining room and sit down next to her daughter. “Is it really necessary for him to be here while we eat?” she asked no one in particular. “I highly doubt Amelia is going to be accosted over rack of lamb and buttered asparagus.”

  “Let the man do his job,” the Duke of Webley said mildly. “You insisted on hiring him to guard our daughter. Something he can hardly hope to accomplish from another room. Unless you’ve changed your mind–”

  “Of course I haven’t changed my mind,” Vanessa snapped. “Until the man who broke into our house is found, Amelia must be protected.”

  Her husband speared a piece of asparagus with his fork. “Then I don’t see the issue.”

  “The issue is that it is highly unusual to have a Bow Street Runner as a house guest, let alone have him dine at our table! I thought he would be much more inconspicuous. What will the neighbors think? Lady Duckworth could stop by at any moment, and you know what a gossip she is. What if she believes he is here to investigate Amelia?”

  The duke’s fork paused in mid-air. “Investigate her for what?” he said blankly.

  “The murder of Lord Reinhold!” Vanessa wailed. “Haven’t you been paying any attention?”

  Amelia, who had been biting her tongue during the entire exchange, couldn’t hold her silence any longer. “You do know Mr. Kent has a name and he can hear you, don’t you? As to Lady Duckworth, who cares what she thinks? The woman is so batty she belongs in a belfry.”

  From across the table Aunt Constance snickered under her breath.

  The Duchess of Webley was less amused.

  “Do not be coarse, Amelia,” she said archly. “I am only looking out for your best interests.”

  “Then as father said, let Mr. Kent do his job. If anyone inquires as to why he is here, simply tell them the truth.” Amelia nudged her plate away. “I am afraid I don’t have very much of an appetite.”

  “Where are you going?” Vanessa demanded when she stood up. Beside her Tobias did the same, his face carefully devoid of any expression as he pulled back her chair. Beneath the table their legs touched. Just a small, inadvertent brush of her thigh against his. It was nothing, really. But if that were true, why did her skin suddenly feel as though it was on fire?

  “Just a walk around the lake before it gets dark. I need to stretch my legs.” By some small miracle Amelia managed to keep her voice steady. “Then I believe I will retire early. It has been a very long day.”

  Her father looked up. “I do not think it wise for you to go for a walk alone, dear.”

  “I won’t be alone. Mr. Kent will escort me.” Don’t look at him, she ordered herself. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

  One glance, and she knew she would betray her feelings. Feelings she’d been holding back ever since she first learned Tobias would be accompanying them to Webley Castle as her paid guard.

  Ironically, she hadn’t even been the one to suggest it. The idea had fallen squarely on her mother’s shoulders – after a bit of urging from Lord Hargrave, who had casually shared that one of the Runner’s services was personal, around the clock protection for those who could afford it.

  Vanessa, being Vanessa, had demanded no one less than the Captain of the Runners, Owen Steel, be the one to shadow her daughter. She’d been forced to settle for Tobias when Mr. Steel made it clear he was unable to leave London, but that Mr. Kent, with his history of protecting mercantile ships when they came into port – something Amelia had been completely unaware of – would be best suited for the position.

  “I shall go with them,” Aunt Constance said cheerfully. She patted her belly. “I could do with a walk as well. Too many crumpets in the carriage, I fear.”

  Vanessa frowned. “I am really not certain this is entirely appropriate–”

  “You let me walk with suitors all the time,” Amelia interrupted. “Is this really so different?”

  Her mother slid a discreet glance at Tobias. The corners of her mouth tightened. “Very well,” she said with obvious reluctance. “I suppose no one could say it is improper. We are paying the man, after all. That really makes him no different than a footman or a livery boy. Just…be in before dark, darling. I wouldn’t want to worry about you.”

  “No,” said Amelia, her voice heavily ladened with sarcasm. “We wouldn’t want that.”

  If she’d had any lingering questions as to if her mother would ever approve of a union between her only daughter and a commoner, they’d just be answered with a firm and irrevocable ‘no’. It didn’t matter that Tobias was head and shoulders above any suitor that had ever walked through the door. He did not have a title, and without one he was no better than a servant in Vanessa’s eyes. Something she’d just made abundantly clear.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly to Tobias once they were out of earshot. Pausing only to retrieve a light shawl to protect her arms against the mosquitoes that swarmed around the lake, she glanced back at him over her shoulder as they made their way outside. He met her gaze but said nothing, his dark eyes impossible to read. Containing her sigh, she led the way down to the long, winding walking trail that went around the perimeter of the lake.

  The path had been freshly lined with wood chips, muffling the sound of Aunt Constance’s footsteps as she wandered ahead, as much a chaperone as the lone hawk circling high above them. Light cast from the setting sun reflected off the glassy water, illuminating everything it touched in a warm golden glow. Here the air was tranquil and quiet, a direct contrast to the noise and the unpleasant stench of London. Closing her eyes, Amelia drew a deep, calming breath. When she opened them again she discovered Tobias staring intently down at her.

  “What is it?” she asked self-consciously. “Do I have something on my face?”

  If she’d gone all this way with a piece of asparagus stuck to her chin….

  “No.” A rare smile softened the hard lines of his countenance. “I was just thinking of how pretty ye are.”

  Over the years men had compared her eyes to glittering sapphires and her hair to canary diamonds.
They’d told her they were swept away by her ethereal beauty and stunned by her exquisite features. Divine, gorgeous, dazzling, resplendent – each suitor had tried to outdo the other with flowery compliments that always felt stale, if only because she knew they’d used the same ones on countless women before her. But Tobias’ quiet, simple sincerity humbled her in a way no other man ever had.

  “Thank you.” Stealing a shy glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she bit back a smile of her own. “You’re rather pretty yourself. In a very masculine way, of course.”

  “You think I’m pretty, do ye?”

  Was that a teasing glint in his eye? Amelia thought she’d seen all sides of Tobias, but this was one he’d never shown her and it filled her heart with hope to know he finally felt comfortable enough to do so.

  “Best not let your head get too large. I believe I said rather pretty. Which,” she clarified as her smile turned impish, “is entirely different from very pretty.”

  After glancing ahead to ensure Aunt Constance wasn’t looking, Tobias drew Amelia into his arms, one hand curving possessively around the small of her back while the other rested on her hip. “Lady Tattershall,” he said huskily. “You wound me.”

  “Oh no,” she whispered, her eyes widening in feigned distress. “Whatever can I do to make up for it?”

  His gaze fell to her plump bottom lip. “I can think of one way…”

  Amelia didn’t need any more of an invitation than that.

  Their last kiss had held a hint of desperation and greed. This one was as soft and light as the cool breeze that swirled around them. It lasted only for a few seconds, but that was enough.

  Enough for her to glimpse the man behind the beast.

  Enough for her to feel his heart jolt against her palm.