Chapter 14

 

Booted feet sounded in the hall, drawing closer. Whoever her customer was, he sounded large and every bit as drunk as Caroline had said. Gunther was with him. Alexandra heard the whoremaster curse and tell his companion to watch his step. Then the key turned in the lock.

Instinctively Alexandra drew the wrapper tightly closed. Setting the brush on the dresser, she pulled the chair within easy reach of it and sat, trying to conserve her energy. She felt every bit as though a hungry lion paced beyond the door, fangs bared. How would she live through the coming nightmare?

No, how would she stop it? Saying a silent prayer, she forced her arms to remain at her sides instead of hugging herself as she was tempted to do. She had to convince Gunther she was compliant so he would leave. Never could she take on two men. Not in her current condition. One would be difficult enough, but Alexandra had already decided she’d die before she’d be a victim again.

The door creaked on its hinges and Gunther appeared, wearing a grin on his swarthy face. The tall bulk of a man moved behind him, but Alexandra refused to look at him. She kept her eyes on the floor, where the reflection of the fire leaped and danced.

“You have company, lassee,” Gunther said. “Now stand up and show this gent what you’ve got for him tonight.”

Alexandra couldn’t stop the tremors that shook her from head to foot. Closing her eyes, she used the chair to stand, then slipped her wrapper off and slowly turned full circle.

Gunther whistled. “What sweet promise. I’ve half a mind to take you for myself, but this man’s determined to have first crack. And if I’m right about the lust in his eye and the bulge in his pants, he’s ready for you. He’ll make a woman of you, all right, and there’ll be plenty left over for me later, eh?”

An animal-like grunt told Alexandra that Gunther’s client admired her as much as Gunther said. The sound left her sick with dread.

“Fair enough?” Gunther said to the man, who hung back in the shadows behind him.

Alexandra sank into her seat while the money changed hands, trying to will herself the strength she lacked. She could hardly stand. What good would her feeble weapon do her? She had no power to strike with the brush. What she needed was a gun.

“Ride her easy, she’s worth a lot to me,” Gunther said, “and just knock when you’re finished. Caroline will let you out.”

The door shut, a key rattled the lock, and Alexandra forced herself to finally look at the man who had come to prey on her flesh. Primed to defend herself against the threat he posed, it took a moment for her to realize that there was something familiar about him. And not until he stepped out of the shadows and doffed his hat did she recognize who he was.

“Nathaniel!”

He came forward and dropped to one knee, taking in the sight of her with one long, hungry perusal. “Aye, it’s me, but don’t give me that look of relief. I’m more than half tempted to take what I’ve paid for.”

Nathaniel’s eyes devoured her, making Alexandra wonder if she’d mind if he did. She had already shared her body with him in her dreams. Just the thought of making those fantasies a reality was enough to warm her as the fire never could. “How much did you pay?” she asked, giving him a temptress’s smile.

“Gunther was a fool to sell you so cheaply. I’d have given him everything I own.”

Alexandra fought the weakness that weighted her limbs and even her smile. “An unnecessary sacrifice, considering I wouldn’t charge you a farthing.”

His mouth descended on hers, claiming it in a passionate kiss that spoke of desire long suppressed. Alexandra wanted to respond, to abandon herself to the joy of seeing him again. She knew he’d make her safe. She wanted him to teach her pleasure. But she was too weak even to clasp her hands around his neck.

“You’re ill,” he said, worry entering his voice as he pressed a hand to her flushed cheeks. “Has this to do with your gunshot wound?”

She shook her head. “Gunther... drugged me, but I can’t seem to recover.” She let her head loll on the back of the chair because it was too much effort to hold it up.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said, his voice fading in her ears. “Where are your clothes?”

Alexandra heard the question. Her mind struggled to communicate that Caroline had taken them, but her mouth refused to form the words, and finally she slipped into the void.

* * *

After depositing Alexandra on the bed, Nathaniel crossed to the dresser. He moved it against the door, and then pulled the flimsy garments from its drawers. None of them looked like something he’d want Alexandra to be seen wearing in public, so he settled on the thin wrapper she had used herself. He put it on her over the revealing corset that nearly drove him mad with longing, and strode to the window to try and jimmy it open. He had to get Alexandra out, and he had to do it now. God had granted him the small miracle of finding her; he was going to make the most of the opportunity.

The window gave way after a moment, and he looked out. It was a long drop, but short of breaking down the door and fighting his way through Gunther and who knew who else, it was the only way.

As if to confirm this, voices rose in the hall outside.

“I tell you, a man with one arm came to the Purple Cow asking about you and the girl not more than two hours ago. Ed would not lie.”

“You’d better be right, Gould. I’ll have your hide if you’re not,” Gunther swore.

Nathaniel scowled. He’d visited the seedy tavern called the Purple Cow in his search for Alexandra. The bartender had evidently given him up.

Gunther tried to open the door, and cursed when he could not. “He’s blocked the entrance.”

The sound of something smashing against the panel reverberated as Gunther made several attempts to break the door open. After the third hit, the dresser began to slide away.

Nathaniel crossed to the bed. “Alexandra.” He added a gentle shake to rouse her.

She blinked up at him, but he could tell by her eyes that she was still dazed. “Alexandra, listen to me. I need your help. I need you to keep yourself from getting scratched and bruised on the way down.”

“The way down?” She gripped his hand in her small, cold ones. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Nathaniel raised her fingers to his mouth, giving them a brief kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll follow you.”

She nodded hesitantly and maneuvered her weight so Nathaniel could strip the sheets from the bed. He tied them together and then around her waist, but she could offer him little help as he carried her to the window and lowered her to the street.

Her feet had scarcely touched the ground when Gunther forced his way into the room. Nathaniel threw the sheet-rope down after her, hoping Alexandra had the strength to make it away from the house where someone might help her. But he couldn’t wait to see. Gunther and the man he had called Gould entered the room, and they both had knives.

Nathaniel pulled the stiletto from his boot and turned to defend himself.

“She’s gone,” Gunther shouted. “Caroline, find the girl!”

Movement in the hall outside told Nathaniel Caroline was heading down the stairs. He had to move quickly.

Dodging a jab from the gangly Gould, Nathaniel made Gunther his goal, but the shorter man blocked the thrust of his knife. Nathaniel felt a sharp sting as Gunther cut his chest. Fortunately, it was little more than a scratch, because he was immediately forced to fend off Gould for a second time.

Ignoring the pain, Nathaniel spun back around and slashed at his attackers, trying to keep them both off-balance. At times he came dangerously close to his targets, causing them to rally and circle around him. Though Gunther was slow and ponderous in his movements, he was powerful. Gould, on the other hand, was less skilled, but in Nathaniel’s opinion, more dangerous. It was difficult to anticipate the action of his knife.

They eyed each other, looking for a vulnerable moment, then Nathaniel dodged left and made a lightening jab at Gunther, who was too slow to escape. Plunging his knife deep into the shorter man’s shoulder, Nathaniel pulled it out again, expecting to defend himself against Gould. But the tall man did not advance. He stood, staring in horror, as blood poured from Gunther’s wound.

Gunther collapsed to his knees, covering the hole in his shoulder with his hands. “He’s killed me. The bloody devil’s killed me!”

“He’ll live,” Nathaniel told Gould, “but only if you spend your time fetching a surgeon instead of troubling me further. Otherwise, you’ll soon find yourself similarly afflicted.”

“Get a doctor,” Gunther groaned.

Gould dropped his blade and ran out of the room while Nathaniel retrieved his money from Gunther’s pockets, along with a tidy sum he considered the whoremaster owed Alexandra.

Nathaniel wiped his knife on Gunther’s trousers, and slid it back into his boot before heading through the hall and down the stairs. Caroline had ahold of Alexandra out front, but she let her go when she realized Gunther had been hurt.

Scooping Alexandra up, Nathaniel placed her on the saddle of his horse and climbed up behind her. She settled against him, stirring a pleasant sensation in his loins, especially when he remembered what little she wore under the wrapper.

What was it about this girl that made her different from all others? he wondered. She was beautiful, but he’d known beautiful women before, none of whom had held his interest for more than a short while. Alexandra was impetuous, stubborn, high-spirited, and so incredibly innocent. Was that what beguiled him? He wasn’t sure. He only knew that he was drawn to her by something he couldn’t identify. He wanted to protect her, caress her, feel her lips beneath his own—and he wanted to possess her body. But what about her heart?

Nothing has changed, he reminded himself firmly. There’s no room in my life for a woman, especially now. Newcastle awaits.

* * *

The room was hot and stuffy. Flushed faces hovered over mugs, talking incessantly, and loud guffaws rang out from a group of men seated in the corner. Normally, Rat would have felt quite at home in the small, cheerful pub. Tonight, nervous tension kept him from enjoying the atmosphere or his ale. He expected the Duke of Greystone at any moment.

Swirling the amber liquid in his cup, Rat tried to concentrate on what he would say when the duke arrived. He decided upon the amount he planned to demand for his information, then quickly tossed it out as too low. He could deliver Dragonslayer on a silver platter. That had to be worth a great deal, and Greystone was as rich as a king.

A fresh gust of air made Rat’s eyes flick toward the narrow portal that separated the cool, soggy outdoors from the smoke and confusion within. It was only a sailor reeling drunkenly into the street. The door jingled shut and the room became as stifling as it had been before.

Checking the pocket watch he had managed to lift from an unwary gentleman as they passed in the street, Rat frowned. The duke was late. Would he show?

Rat tapped his foot, wondering if perhaps he was at the wrong place. But the sign above the door read greentree tavern, just like Lord Clifton’s note had said. Rat had asked three different gentlemen, just to be sure.

Just when he was about to give up, the door opened again, and the duke stepped in. Greystone’s dark hair was tinged with gray at the temples, and he was elegantly garbed in a greatcoat of the finest wool. One bejeweled hand clenched the ivory crook of a cane. A footman, dressed in livery, stood at his heels.

Rat let his breath go in relief. The next few minutes would make him a very rich man.

He waved to get the duke’s attention.

Greystone nodded to his servant, who immediately turned and headed back outside, evidently to wait with the coach. Then he made his way toward the table.

“Yer Grace.” Rat stood and offered the duke a deep bow. “‘Ow good of ye to come.”

Greystone’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s dispense with the formalities, shall we? You have something I want.”

“Aye, Yer Grace. But, please, won’t ye sit down?”

Rat motioned to one side of the tall booth, realizing that the power he had felt earlier must have been an illusion. This man paid homage to no one, for any reason.

“Please,” Rat said again when a serving maid hurried to their table to ask the duke his pleasure.

The nobleman grudgingly relinquished his coat and cane to the maid, but refused refreshment. “Do you have the information I need or not?” he asked as soon as the girl left.

“Aye, Yer Grace. There is the small matter of price—”

“Considering you’re the thief my housekeeper ran off, and were among the pirates who have raided my ships, you’re hardly in a position to dictate terms,” he interrupted.

Sweat beaded on Rat’s upper lip. “But Yer Grace! ‘Twas never proved that I took those candelabras, an’ I was only the ship’s servant. I took no part in the plunderin’. I offered my assistance to yer son, certainly that proves my intentions were honorable from the start.”

“Honorable?” the duke scoffed. “I’m no fool. You’re motivated only by greed.” His fingers drummed on the table. “What is your price? Perhaps the knowledge that I am aware of your past will keep you honest.”

A pretty young woman with a low décolletage sidled up to the table and smiled at the duke. When Greystone glanced up, she curtseyed. “I’ve been worried, Yer Grace. I ‘eard ye was ill.”

“As you can see, I have recovered,” he told her.

“And it’s glad I am. It’s been a long time.” She lowered her lashes. “Too long.”

“Later,” the duke replied tersely. “Wait for me.” He waved his hand, and the woman moved away to hover in a corner.

Rat was too preoccupied with the large emerald glittering from one of Greystone’s many rings to be distracted for long. He quickly forgot the woman as he wrestled with his greed, lost his nerve somewhat, and backed off the five-thousand-pound figure he had hoped to achieve. “One thousand pounds,” he ventured.

“I’ll give you ten pounds,” the duke replied. “And I won’t report you to the authorities.”

“But Yer Grace, I came ‘ere to be of service to ye at great risk to myself—”

“You look whole enough to me. Make no mistake. I will capture Nathaniel Kent with or without your help. It is only a matter of sooner or later.”

Rat felt the blood rise to his face. “Twenty pounds or I tell ye nothin’,” he said, seething. His information had to be worth at least that much. The marquess had been far too eager to receive it.

“Perhaps you misunderstood me.” The fire raging in the pub’s hearth reflected in the duke’s eyes. “My terms are not negotiable, and trust me, you do not wish to have me as your enemy.” He raised a hand to summon the proprietor.

The maid who had taken his coat came immediately to the table and dipped into a deep curtsey. “Can I get ye somethin’, Yer Grace?”

“Yes. You can contact a constable—”

“All right!” Rat almost choked on his words. “Certainly there’s no need for that.”

“Indeed.” A grin curled Greystone’s lips as he waved the girl away, mumbling something about changing his mind. “Now then, where is the troublesome one who calls himself Dragonslayer?”

Rat hated to sell his information so cheaply, but he could figure no way to wheedle any more money out of the duke. He remembered the days he’d spent locked up in the ship’s hold. At least Nathaniel deserved it. “Right ‘ere in London,” he said.

Greystone’s eyebrows shot up. “Here? Where?”

“I’m not sure exactly. ‘Is men returned from London only ‘ours before I slipped away, but I over ‘eard one of ‘em say ‘e’s seein’ a woman who’s stayin’ with a doctor. I think the man’s name is Dr. Watts. Lives somewhere on Broad Street, just off Oxford Road.”

“Yes. That makes sense.” The duke rubbed his chin. “The Golden Crown isn’t far from Broad Street. And his ship?”

“‘Is ship, Yer Grace?”

“His ship! Where is his ship?”

“In Newcastle. The crew is awaitin’ its captain there.”

“Excellent.” Greystone smiled, then shot a glance at the young woman who was waiting for him.

Rat followed his gaze, more than a little disgruntled by the nagging feeling that he was losing the duke’s interest. “ An’ my money, Yer Grace?”

“Not so quickly. Once a thief, always a thief—and a liar. That’s God’s own truth. If you would betray Nathaniel, you would betray me. Dogs like you will do anything for money. What proof do I have that what you have told me is the truth?”

“I ‘ave no reason to lie—”

“You have ten pounds as reason and had a hope of one thousand. I’ll not pay the likes of you ten pence. Now get out of here before I call the authorities. You’re lucky to escape with your skin.”

The woman across the room blew the duke a kiss, and Greystone stood up.

“But Yer Grace. We ‘ad a bargain. Ten pounds is nothin’ to ye,” Rat cried.

“Not turning you in was part of that bargain. That is the part I will keep if you leave immediately. I’ll not have the likes of you dunning me for money.”

Rat wanted to call the duke a thief and a liar, but he was now convinced that the nobleman was more dangerous than he had ever imagined.

“Be gone.” Greystone waved Rat off with obvious distaste.

Knowing it would be futile to plead, Rat left his ale and hurried out into the rainy night. He glanced back just in time to see the duke signal the young woman to approach him.

* * *

“Where did you find her?” Dr. Watts whispered so he wouldn’t wake Alexandra.

“St. Giles Street.” Nathaniel ran his fingers along Alexandra’s arm. “A man she sewed for was planning to sell her into prostitution. Fortunately, I got there first.”

Tutty’s eyes grew round. “Poor child. I shudder to think what might have happened.”

“I tried to tell her London was no place for a young girl to gallivant around in.” Dr. Watts peered over glasses that rested halfway down his nose. “Perhaps now she will listen.”

Nathaniel grunted. Such sentiments came easily to someone with a comfortable home and the means to survive. Alexandra didn’t possess those luxuries. He knew she’d done only what she felt she had to.

He sighed. Now he had to do the same. As dangerous as the city could be, Alexandra was better off in London than accompanying him. He was out of time. He had to leave for Newcastle—without her.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” the doctor said. “I’ve a colleague coming in just a few minutes. When the laudanum wears off, your sister will be good as new, thanks to you.”

“Don’t let me keep you.” Nathaniel stood, but couldn’t relinquish his contact with Alexandra so soon. “I was just leaving myself.”

Dr. Watts turned back. “Leaving, you say?”

“Aye.” Nathaniel reluctantly pulled away from Alexandra and followed him to the door. “I’d like to keep our arrangement as before, if possible. I have pressing business.”

“That’s fine, if that’s what you want. And don’t worry about your sister. We won’t let her out of our sight again, at least not until she has secured a position with a reputable shop.”

“I can’t tell you how much that relieves my mind.” Nathaniel hated to manipulate Dr. Watts and Tutty, but if anyone needed someone to keep her out of trouble, Alexandra did, whether she acknowledged it or not. Or perhaps he needed their reassurances to make a difficult parting easier.

He was just about to pass outside when a backward glance told him Alexandra was awake.

“Nathaniel?”

“I’m here,” he said, moving back to her bed.

“Are you well?”

“I’m faring better than you are.”

She tried to laugh. “I thought I’d found employment.”

“You got more than you bargained for.”

She cringed. “How did you find me?”

“I traced your steps from dress shop to dress shop, but there were several times your trail went cold. If it hadn’t been for Mariah, I probably never would have found you.”

“She told you where I was?”

“She told me what she thought had happened to you. She didn’t know exactly where Gunther’s brothel was, but between her help and a bit of money in other places, I extracted the information I needed. I’m just glad I found you in time.” He smoothed the hair back out of her face, and their eyes met and held for a moment. Nathaniel was tempted to kiss her; but he doubted he could temper his desire into an expression of affection appropriate to brother and sister. Tutty was still in the room, fussing about. He put his hand on Alexandra’s cheek instead and rubbed her bottom lip with his thumb.

“Richard is back,” he told her.

She smiled. “Good. Tell him he owes me. If it weren’t for him I’d never have”—she glanced at Tutty’s back—”gone to sea.”

He nodded. “The two of you will have to meet someday.”

“Will we?” Alexandra studied him.

“I hope so.”

“Is Jake home?” she asked, using Clifton’s given name so Tutty wouldn’t know who she was talking about.

“He should be by now.”

“Have you heard anything from... his father?”

“No news is good news, as they say.” He gave her a weak grin.

“Or it’s the calm before the storm.” Alexandra’s hand found his.

“I have to go.”

“I’m coming with you this time.” She tried to get up, but Nathaniel pressed her back.

“You know I can’t take you.”

“Then why did you return?”

Her eyes challenged him, and Nathaniel felt a moment of helplessness. Why indeed? It had been a foolish concession to his heart, but he wasn’t willing to explain that. “I don’t know. I’m just glad I did.”

“But I’m feeling better already.” With a glint of determination sparkling in her eye, she spoke louder, causing Tutty to turn toward them. “And you promised Mother you’d never leave me.”

Nathaniel dropped his voice to a threatening level. “Alexandra, don’t play games. There is no better place for you right now.”

A sympathetic look crossed Tutty’s face as the housekeeper went about her business.

“I can’t take her, Tutty,” Nathaniel explained, stepping away from the bed. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Of course, Mr. Kent,” she said, but her expression held a hint of accusation.

Nathaniel turned back to Alexandra. “If things were different, perhaps...” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll not make empty promises. I have to go.”

Alexandra’s lids lowered in defeat, then fluttered open again. “Be careful,” she whispered.

He nodded, wishing he’d left before she’d awakened. It was more difficult this way. Bending, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Leave word with the good doctor as to your whereabouts, will you?”

She nodded.

After saying good-bye to Mrs. Tuttle, Nathaniel headed out the door. The rain was gone but the fog persisted, making him damp within minutes. He frowned at the bothersome weather as he mounted his horse, then tried to turn his mind to what lay ahead instead of the lovely woman he was leaving behind.

Soon he would be on the sea again, where the heavens were clearly visible, stretching forever above him; where the stars were so bright they looked as though he could pluck them from the sky. Closing his eyes, he pictured the serenity of a calm night on the ocean. He could even feel the gentle rocking of the ship—until his head exploded in pain as something hit him from behind, and the ground rushed up to meet him.