A Loving Scoundrel
Page 34

“Don’t be censuring me on what I was forced to do all these years. I never liked stealing. I hated it.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“I come from the slums, mate. D’you realize how few choices women who can’t read or write, who can’t even talk proper, have?”
“I see why you have such an aversion to that ‘word,’ ” he replied, careful not to say it.
“Well, thatis what most of them end up doing, whoring or stealing.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “That’s not what has you upset at the moment. Admit it. Being the victim has you realizing how all your victims must have felt.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Not even close, mate. And we didn’t get robbed, nor would we have. I was awake. I would’ve heard that bungler tiptoeing about the room if I didn’t hear the knock on the door first, or I would’ve smelled him. He reeked of rum, if you didn’t notice. He was doomed to fail. A good thief knows better than to steal when he’s foxed.”
“Very well, I give up guessing.” He sighed. “What turned you sour?”
“I ain’t sour. I just realized, listening to you, that we have no definition, you and me. You called me your friend, but you paused before you said it. You don’t really think of me that way, now do you?”
“Well, if you consider the definition ofthat word, then, yes, I do. What is a friend if not someone you feel close to, someone you like being with, someone you can confide in and share pleasures with.” He grinned wickedly. “Of course, not the sort of pleasureswe share, but you get the idea. Now we ain’t best friends—yet. But we’re getting there.”
She was surprised, asked him, “You ain’t pulling my leg, are you?”
He pushed her back on the bed so he could lean over her. “I will never joke aboutus, Danny. Now, I haven’t done much confiding, other than things you could have heard from anyone. So here’s a little tidbit for you. Amyis my best friend, and you’ll be seeing a lot of her, since she visits often—when Warren isn’t dragging her off to America. I’d like you to get to know her better.
You’ll like her. Actually, you can’t help but like her. She’s a sweetheart. Just never bet with her, over anything.
“Why?”
“Because she never loses.”
“She’s that lucky?”
“No, she’s that gifted. It’s those ‘feelings’ she gets. She’s never wrong about them. So consider yourself warned in advance. If she wants to bet with you about something, run the other way.”
Chapter 42
JEREMY HAD BEEN RIGHTabout Amy Anderson. It was impossible not to like her. She was vivacious, refreshingly frank, funny, and capable of an endless stream of chatter. Danny sat in the carriage next to Amy while Jeremy drove them back to London, and Warren rode his horse alongside. Somehow, Amy had managed to get Danny’s entire life story out of her, all that she could remember anyway, including her goals. And Amy hadn’t been surprised in the least, merely interested. Amy did cast a few glances at Jeremy’s back, and Danny had to wonder if he was listening. But he never joined the conversation, so she doubted it.
They were approaching the outskirts of London when Amy suddenly said, “We’re being followed.”
Jeremy stopped the carriage immediately, proving he had been listening all the while, though Danny hadn’t said anything he didn’t already know about.
“Who?” Jeremy asked his cousin, then realizing she couldn’t possibly know that, he asked instead, “They mean us harm?”
Danny was about to point out Amy couldn’t know that either when the lady replied, “Most definitely.”
Danny became distinctly uncomfortable at that point, as Warren rode off to see if he could ferret out anyone behind them or hiding alongside the road. She’d had the same feeling, that someone was following, but she’d discounted it, since she’d felt it more than once since moving uptown, and nothing had ever come of it. But with Amy having the same feeling, and since her family certainly didn’t doubt her, Danny wondered if she should mention that this wasn’t the first time.
She held her tongue. It simply couldn’t be related. The two times she’d felt she’d been followed in the city had no doubt been due to that thug Lucy had told her about, the one who’d been trying to find her. Whoever was following them now would have nothing to do with her, was probably just some highwayman who’d missed his chance to stop them before they got too close to the city.
Sure enough, Warren came back shaking his head, having found no one. And Amy relaxed again, announcing, “The danger has passed. I do believe you scared them off, Warren, whoever they were.”
They continued on their way as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Danny was amused. The two men took Amy’s pronouncements as gospel. She said they were no longer in danger and so they thought nothing else about it.
Jeremy merely dropped Danny off at home before he took Amy home. He mentioned that he probably would be late getting back, since he had some business to attend to, something about carpenters he had to hire for one of his uncle’s properties that needed renovations.
Danny got right back into her cleaning routine as if she hadn’t spent the night out with the master of the house. The house hadn’t picked up much dust while she was gone though, so she finished her work before dinner. Jeremy returned about that time and interrupted her dinner with a summons to the dining room where he was having his.
“Have a seat, luv. Have you eaten yet?”
“I was eating.”
“Fetch your plate then and join me.”
She’d sat down next to him. She wasn’t getting back up. “You know that ain’t proper.”
He sighed. “I won’t keep you then. Just wanted to let you know I’ll be gone for the weekend.”
She sighed now. “You know you don’t have to keep me apprised of your schedule.”
“Why are you throwing up a wall between us again? I thought we agreed we were friends. And friends do tell each other what they’re up to.”
She looked down to avoid his gaze. Was she doing that? Trying to put more space between them in preparation of her leaving? Probably. It wasn’t going to be easy to walk away from Jeremy Malory. But the sooner she did so, the less it would hurt.
To put off that unpleasant thought, she said, “So what are you up to, mate?”
“Aside from the Crandle house party, I’m up for anythingyou have in mind.”
“Crandle? Ain’t that where Percy got fleeced?”
Jeremy didn’t answer. He stood up, came around behind her chair, and drew her to her feet as well. And before she knew what he was going to do, he was kissing her so deeply her toes curled. She didn’t know how long he continued to do so. Every single thought went right out of her mind as it usually did when she tasted him.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. And then he was setting her back from him, and she didn’t have to guess that he was angry.
She hadn’t sensed it in the kiss, but it was definitely there in his expression as well as his tone when he warned, “That’s going to happen every time you play at indifference with me. Don’t do it again. I bloody well don’t like it.”
She hadn’t been pretending indifference about his plans for the weekend, she’d been desperately trying to ignore what he made her feel every time she got near him. Which was pretty pointless. She should have realized that by now.
Annoyed with herselfand with him now, for the way he chose to get his point across, she stabbed a finger in his chest. “I wasn’t pretending anything. I was trying to keep from pouncing on you and dragging you off to your room. I thought you’d want to finish your dinner first.”
He blinked at her, then burst out laughing. “God, no, you can pounce on me anytime you like, dear girl.”
She snorted. “Sit down, mate. The impulse has passed. And you can tell me why you’re going to a party where Lord Heddings is likely to be.”
He tsked, but took his seat again. “Because heis likely to be there, of course.”
She frowned. “You’re going to try to catch him stealing, aren’t you?”
“Certainly. Aside from what he did to Percy, the man stole from my family. If I don’t see to his apprehension, then m’father is going to step in and kill him. In the end, I’m sure Heddings would prefer my approach.”
She rolled her eyes at him,hoping he was just exaggerating about his father. “Did it occur to you that he might not work alone? That he might employ others to do the stealing for him?”
“You’re thinking like a thief, m’dear. Think like a lord instead—”
“Exactly. Would a lord really risk doing the dirty work himself when he could hire others to do it and just sit back and rake in the spoils? I mean, the man employs servants who walk around with pistols in the middle of the night. That should tell you something.”
“That was deuced odd, wasn’t it?”
“More like a normal butler used to blokes of the nasty sort showing up at all hours of the night—ourselves excluded, of course,” she thought it prudent to add.
“Naturally. But I hope not. I’d prefer to catch him red-handed. Much more satisfying.”
She sighed. “You’ll be careful?”
“Aha!” he pounced immediately. “Finally going to admit you worry about me, eh?”
“Not a chance, mate,” she grumbled. “It’s my wages I worry about.” Then she teased, “Maybe you should pay me before you leave for your weekend party.”
“No, but I’ll makeyou pay for that remark.”
He did, too, most pleasantly.
Chapter 43
DANNY HAD LEFT THE LAMPin her room burning low for the pets. She’d taken them to bed with her, but didn’t expect them to sleep the night through with her, so she wanted them to have a little light if they wanted to play a bit before settling down again.
It was the kitten’s tail, swishing against her cheek, that woke her from the dream, though not soon enough. She relived it once again, the club falling toward her head, then the burst of pain. It hurt. She’d never had pain in her dream before, just the memory of it… oh, God, she wasn’t dreaming.
He swung the club again. She saw him clearly, a middle-aged man, gray, straggly hair, and then she saw another image of him, younger, black-haired, with the same dark eyes filled with deadly intent. He was the man who’d hurt her before, the one who’d disrupted her life and stolen her memories. She hadn’t recognized him at the inn, but it was so clear to her now that he was the man from her past. And he was still trying to kill her…
She couldn’t move far with the covers hampering her, but she got out of the way of that second swing of the club, heard it slam against the pillow next to her bed. She fought with the covers to get her feet loose, didn’t think she could avoid the next swing unless she rolled out of the bed. But she was afraid she’d be even more tangled then, helpless, so her only real chance would be to fight him and wrest the club away from him.
She turned back to try to intercept the next swing, but Jeremy was suddenly there and tackling the man to the floor. He punched him, again and again. She’d never seen Jeremy like that. He seemed determined to kill the man with his bare fists.
“I don’t think he feels that anymore,” she said.
Jeremy glanced back at her. He’d been holding the man off the floor by his collar, so each blow would land squarely on his face. He let him fall now and came to her side. He lifted her face, examining it intensely.
His voice held a frantic note as he demanded, “Where’d he hit you?”
“My head, but I think I deflected the worst of the blow with my arm when I raised it to move the kitten away from my cheek.”
He inspected her head now, found the small lump forming. She winced as he touched it, but said nothing. It was starting to throb, though not extremely. Her forearm actually hurt more.
“The skin didn’t break,” he told her. “You’ll probably have a bit of a headache though for a day or two. We should have some ice in the house to put on that. I’ll have Artie fetch some after he gets rid of the trash.”
He went to the door to shout for their butler, but came right back to the bed and finally sat down next to her so he could gather her in his arms.
“I don’t believe what just happened,” he said. “You’re all right, though, right? Tell me you’re all right.”
“I’m fine. But how did you know he was here?”
“I didn’t. Some noise woke me, probably him robbing the rooms upstairs. But once I was awake, I thought of you all warm and cozy in your bed and decided my bed was rather lonely. Amy must have been right. He followed us from the inn.”
“He followedme,” Danny corrected. “If he was upstairs, it was to find me. He’s the same man who tried to kill me when I was a child, the same one who killed my parents.”
He stared at her incredulously. “You didn’t know that when you saw him at the inn?”
“No, I didn’t recognize him at all then, not until I saw him with that club raised over his head tonight. I should have known, though, that he wasn’t there to rob us that night. I’d had the feeling I’d been followed recently, since I came uptown, but I managed to lose him.”
“Until he found you again at the inn and followed us back?”
“It looks that way.”