by Merry Farmer
“Do you think—” she started, but stopped with a gasp when David marched out through the gate again. He had two large, threatening men with him.
“Go back inside,” he ordered her grandmother. “We want to talk to this little miss about her coin, and we want to do it alone.”
“You can’t have it.” Charlotte said, taking a step back and clutching the coin to her chest. “It’s more important than you know.”
“Yes,” David laughed. “And it will fetch an important price.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Hand it over or we will take it from you. And you won’t like that.”
Chapter 7
Even with the address of Charlotte’s flat in one hand and a map of Venice in the other, Trent had a hard time figuring out the labyrinth of Venetian streets and canals. Every once in a while, he glanced around to see if the buildings and plazas he passed looked familiar. A few times, he thought he recognized one of the streets or a church or shop from when he and Charlotte had chased the dark lady. Nothing seemed completely familiar, though, and the longer he wandered, the more uneasy he felt. It was as if some sort of danger loomed just ahead of him—something that affected him profoundly—but he couldn’t grasp what it was.
That sense of danger reached a towering height as he turned a corner and headed down a street lined with old houses that had laundry strung between the windows and dogs and children playing out front. It was as far from the wealthy part of the city that tourists stayed in as night was to day. One glance to the end of the street and he knew exactly what the feeling of danger deep within him was all about.
Charlotte stood in front of a house with flowers planted in boxes lining each window. She was speaking to a trio of men that instantly had Trent’s guard up. One of them in particular seemed to be threatening her. As he moved closer, Charlotte backed away. An alarmed, older woman looked on, but she didn’t seem capable of intervening.
“Hey!” Trent picked up his pace, rushing forward to Charlotte’s defense. He barely considered that he might be outnumbered and outmatched by the men threatening Charlotte. Even if he was, it didn’t matter. “What is the meaning of this?”
As soon as Charlotte whipped around, Trent could see the fright in her eyes. “Trent.” She spoke his voice with relief, but also with warning. With a quick glance to the men looming near her, she clutched her fist tightly to her chest and dashed to meet Trent. “We must leave here at once,” she whispered when she met him, grabbing his arm with her free hand.
“You can’t walk away from me that easily, little girl,” the man who seemed to be the leader of the three called out. He strode toward Charlotte, the two others trailing him, looking amused by the situation. “Not when you have something I want.”
The old woman called out to the man, but he ignored her. Trent narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to figure out a way to get rid of him without spilling any blood.
“He wants the coin,” Charlotte whispered, pressing the coin into Trent’s hand while concealing the movement from the men approaching.
“Well, he can’t have it.” Trent slipped the coin into his pocket along with the map he’d been carrying. He stood taller, shifting Charlotte to stand just behind him. “A gentleman doesn’t accost a lady in the street over a trinket,” he told the approaching men.
The leader laughed, glancing over his shoulder to the others as though they were watching some sort of street entertainment. “Good thing I’m not a gentleman. And this little one certainly isn’t a lady.”
A brief pinch of worry hit Trent’s gut. Did the man know something about Charlotte that he didn’t know? It was possible, but he rejected the notion that Charlotte was anything other than the sweet and lovely woman his soul knew her to be.
“We have no quarrel with you,” he said as firmly as he could. Men like the one in front of him only responded to strength, and he would be damned if he presented himself as weak, no matter how he felt most of the time. “You go your way and we’ll go ours.”
The man continued to laugh as he came to within a few feet of Trent. “You’re funny, for an Englishman.” He lost his smile. “Now, give me that coin.”
“Do you mean this one?” Charlotte asked, holding up a closed fist. She peeked suddenly at Trent.
Trent knew in an instant what she wanted him to do as if they’d planned it for days before. As soon as the man looked to her, Trent formed a fist and punched him across the face as hard as he could. He wasn’t a fighter, but the blow hit in exactly the right place to send the man reeling to the side.
As soon as the man stumbled, Trent grabbed Charlotte’s hand and tore off in the direction he’d come. He instinctively hated the idea of running from a fight, especially one he’d started, but it was more important to get Charlotte to safety than it was to prove his masculinity.
The man recovered quickly, though. He and his friends rushed after Trent and Charlotte. They caught up fast, but what he and Charlotte lacked in speed, they made up for in cleverness. Charlotte jerked Trent down a side alley that was barely big enough for two men to stand shoulder to shoulder. From there, she doubled back a bit, cut through a small street, then dashed down another impossibly narrow alley.
The angry men kept following them. Trent was ready to stop and fight then, knowing he was no match for their combined power. Charlotte continued to wear a look of determination, though. He followed her, zigging when she zigged and zagging when she zagged, even though it felt like they were running in one, big circle.
As it turned out, he was right. But the results of the large circle Charlotte made were anything but expected. They reached the house with the flowers again, approaching it from the opposite direction. The old woman was still there, but now two other women were with her, standing on either side of the street.
“Run, little one,” the old woman called to Charlotte. “We’ve got them.”
Charlotte seemed to double her efforts as the men chasing them shot out of the alley they’d just come from. As she and Trent passed the old woman, he vaguely noticed a rope lying across the street, like some sort of finish line. As soon as they crossed it, the old woman shouted something.
Because they needed to keep running, Trent only saw what happened next out of the corner of his vision. The old woman and her accomplices picked up the rope and held it taut across the street. The threatening man and his accomplices sped right into it. Trent didn’t see how the women were able to hold the rope tight enough—unless there were other unseen helpers inside of the houses on either side of the street—but by some miracle, the men were effectively hamstrung. They erupted into shouting in a foreign language.
“Quick,” Charlotte panted, dragging Trent down a different side street when they reached the first corner they’d turned around earlier in their flight. “That won’t stop them for long.”
She was right. They ran as far and as fast as they could, crossing over a canal in the process. Charlotte seemed to sense when the men were on their tail again, and rather than speeding on, she dashed inside of a nondescript house. The inhabitants weren’t home, which meant he and Charlotte could duck down in the front room without being seen. Moments later, the men chasing them dashed by.
They waited for several long minutes—so long that Trent lost track of time. The men doubled back at one point, speaking in frustrated tones to each other. After they disappeared the second time, they didn’t come back.
“We should be safe now,” Charlotte whispered. She stood, leading him out of the house. “They don’t know where I live, so there is no need to worry now.”
He nodded, following her confidently as she began a purposeful route to her home. He trusted her to get them both to safety as he hoped she trusted him to keep her safe once they were there.
By the time she and Trent reached her flat, Charlotte burned with shame over how stupid she’d been.
“I never should have gone to them for help,” she sighed, closing the door to her flat once they were inside and locking th
e door.
“Who were they and why did you feel you should go to them for help?” Trent asked. He reached into his pocket and took the coin, a map, and a slip of paper from his pocket, setting them on the table.
Charlotte hesitated before turning to him, reluctant to meet his eyes and confess what she had to. “They are my mother’s family,” she said, slowly dragging her eyes up to meet his. “I told you my mother was a Romani fortune-teller, but seeing the truth of who her people are for yourself….” She let her words and her head drop.
“There’s no shame in having an exotic family.” Trent approached her with a smile, slipping a hand under her chin and nudging her to look at him. The kindness and affection in his eyes melted Charlotte’s heart. “Look at my own family,” he said with a laugh. “They’re all just a bunch of rogues and jades.”
“With titles and wealth,” Charlotte reminded him.
“Not all of them,” Trent said with more seriousness. “The trouble with a large family, even in the aristocracy, is that there isn’t enough wealth or enough titles to go around. Some of the cousins Asher brought with us on this journey are as poor as church mice. We love them just the same, though.”
Relief spread through Charlotte, but it was short-lived.
“My grandmother said the symbols on the coin are Coptic.” She crossed past Trent to pick the coin up.
“Coptic?” Trent frowned and followed her. “As in Egyptian?”
Charlotte nodded.
Trent shoved a hand through his hair. “Why would a cipher coin have Coptic symbols on it?”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte answered. “It is possible that whoever is using the coin to decode messages—if that’s even the purpose of the coin to begin with—is simply using Coptic because it is obscure.”
“It’s also possible that someone in Egypt may be involved in this whole business,” Trent said, rubbing his chin. His gaze lost its focus as he slipped into his thoughts. “We are all scheduled to travel to Egypt after our time in Italy.”
Charlotte blinked in surprise. “You are?”
“Yes.” Trent focused on her. “We are all set to stay for a while in Cairo, then to travel down the Nile to see the excavations at Luxor. I believe Roselyn bullied Asher into a trip to Alexandria as well.”
“Then whatever danger your cousin is in, it very well could involve something centered in Egypt.”
Trent suddenly looked wary and anxious. “There’s something you should know,” he said, crossing to her and holding her arms. He hesitated, pressing his lips together and staring at her as if he didn’t know how to say what he needed to say next. Finally, he burst out with, “Lord Beverly has gone missing.”
It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Missing?” She swayed into Trent, needing him to support her as the terrible news hit her.
Trent wrapped his arms around her. “I went there in search of you, since I couldn’t find my way here, to your flat.”
A wave of guilt washed through Charlotte. She shouldn’t have left the palace the other night without telling him she was going, but his sister and the others had made her think there was no way she and Trent could be together. That was no excuse for running away, though.
“Your father’s butler said he had gone missing sometime in the night,” Trent went on. He hesitated, then asked, “Could he, perhaps, have gone on a trip or even an errand?”
Charlotte shook her head. “My father would never go out without telling Mr. Moriconi where he was going.” She glanced down, biting her lip. “If Mr. Moriconi was distressed by his absence, then something horrible must be going on.”
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that something was terribly wrong.
“We have to find him,” she said, breaking away from Trent and pacing toward her door. She stopped before reaching it, all too aware that her uncle might still be searching for her. It would take a few more hours until he gave up and moved on to something else.
Trent followed her, pulling her into his arms again. “I’ll do anything you want me to do,” he said, turning her to face him. “But I’m not sure what that could be. I don’t know the first thing about your father, who his associates are, or where he might have disappeared to. All I know is that my cousin, Asher, was at his house, as distressed as Mr. Moriconi. He was as unwilling as ever to give me any information.”
Between frustration and fear, Charlotte could barely think. Every one of her senses screamed that something far bigger than her and Trent was going on, but she couldn't grasp what it was. It felt like being lost at sea in a storm, buffeted by waves in the dark, without any sign of the shore in sight. But at least she had Trent as her anchor.
“There has to be a way to discover the truth behind what’s going on,” she said, glancing up at him. “There are too many mysteries, but even the darkest mysteries have solutions.”
“The only thing we can do is force Asher to tell the truth for a change,” Trent said, hugging her tighter.
“How can we do that? What reason does he have to tell us anything?” Charlotte rested her head on his shoulder.
Trent was silent for a moment. She could almost hear him thinking. At last, he lifted his head and said, “There’s a masquerade ball at the palace tomorrow. You must come. We can confront him there and force him to tell us the whole story.” He paused, caressing the side of her face. “And we can also take the opportunity to convince my well-meaning but misguided sister that you are the only woman for me.”
Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat and her heart seemed to expand in her chest. “I…I am?”
“Of course,” he said, passion in his voice. “I knew it from the moment I first laid eyes on you, and if I’m not mistaken, so did you.”
His words filled her with light and hope, just as they brought unexpected tears to her eyes. “I did,” she said. “I just wasn’t sure that you would think someone like me was worthy of someone like you.”
“Worthy?” He laughed, stealing a soft kiss from her lips. “My darling, you’re talking to a man who has never been of any interest to any woman, let alone one as beautiful and good as you are. I consider myself the luckiest man in the world that you would deign to speak to me, let alone allow me to hold you and kiss you like I so desperately want to.”
“All I want to do is hold you and kiss you,” she said, torn between feeling sad that so many women had rejected him before and overjoyed that he was all hers and hers alone.
Without waiting for him to take action, she slipped her arms around his shoulders, lifted to her toes, and kissed him with all the love blossoming within her. He gasped in surprise at her initiative, then laughed as he kissed her in return. The sound was rich, and the vibrations buzzed through her, making her feel as though their hearts were meant to beat in unison with each other. What she needed from him went well beyond laughter and heartbeats, though.
“I want you,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair. “I need to feel you inside of me.”
He let out a shaky breath and kissed her again. This time, his kiss was filled with as much need as she felt. Without waiting, his hands went to the fastenings of her skirt as she pushed his jacket from his shoulders.
In no time at all, they had shed their clothes and tumbled onto her bed. As glorious as it would have been to take the entire afternoon to make love, Charlotte wasn’t in the mood for slow and sweet. She wanted to be one with Trent, to feel their bodies and souls entwined and to take comfort from the union, as swiftly as possible. Trent seemed just as eager, but also determined to kiss and stroke her, as if he felt responsible for giving her the most enjoyable experience possible. His intense focus on her had the paradoxical reaction of making her laugh.
“You are the most wonderful man I’ve ever met,” she panted as he kissed his way down her neck, one hand teasing her breast. “But I want you now.”
He was consumed by ardor enough that he put up no resistance when
she pushed his shoulders, rolling him to his back. A look of surprise lit his face as she straddled him, but as she took hold of his cock and guided it to her entrance, bearing down on him and sheathing him fully, that surprise transformed into a look of pure pleasure. That, in turn, only increased her desire for him. She moved slowly at first, learning how best to join with him to give them both the fullest pleasure possible.
As soon as she found the right combination of movements, she picked up speed. The friction of their joining and the way he stretched and filled her had her spiraling toward the edge in no time at all. He caressed her sides, reaching for her breasts. Even though she controlled their mating, he clearly enjoyed it as much as she did. As pleasure built and built within her, he jerked his hips against her, his expression more and more transported as he approached orgasm as well.
At last, he called out, thrusting hard into her. Charlotte’s body throbbed into orgasm in response, filling her with light and heat like fire. She continued to move, milking him within her, drawing her pleasure on and on for longer than she thought possible.
When she couldn’t hold herself up for another moment, she collapsed into a sated puddle atop him. Trent sighed with contentment, holding her close.
“You are the most wonderful thing in the world,” he panted, stroking her hair and caressing her back. “I swear on everything I hold sacred, I will never let you go.”
Charlotte smiled against his shoulder and snuggled into his arms. If she had her way, he would never have to let her go. But everything depended on getting to the bottom of the mystery surrounding them, and on whether his family would accept her or not.
Chapter 8
The atmosphere in the palace where the McGovern clan was staying couldn’t have been more festive, but Trent paced the halls, as tense as a cat. Charlotte had yet to arrive, even though the ball had started an hour ago. He’d wandered the halls of the palace, feeling out of place and slightly ridiculous in the elaborate costume Hattie had insisted he wear for the event. His mask itched, but at least it was simple, unlike the ridiculous thing Whitemarsh wore.