His Lady Midnight (18 page)

“Phoebe,” he murmured against her ear, “you label me a gentleman, but I consider myself want-witted.”

She opened her eyes as she clasped his face between her hands. “No more than I am for being so angry at you over something so insignificant.”

“I know I turn a blind eye too often when it comes to Carr's misdeeds, but I have come to believe a small amount of trouble is better for him to involve himself in rather than a large amount of trouble.” He chuckled. “As you seem to find yourself in large amounts of trouble far too regularly, my dear. This is the third time I have come to your rescue.”

“They say the third time is the charm.”

“That is not true.” His smile vanished as candid longing filled his eyes. “I have been charmed by you since the moment we first spoke.”

A thrill of exquisite pleasure swept aside everything but the longing for his touch as his fingers slipped down her back. “As I have been by you.”

“And I am wasting this time by being a gentleman.” The twinkle in his eyes became as mischievous as any expression his brother ever wore. “Do you want a gentleman, Phoebe, or a man who will teach you to free the passions you cannot hide?”

“You always ask such difficult questions.” Her words became a sigh as his mouth drifted along her neck again.

“Is this one so difficult?”

“No,” she murmured, drawing his mouth back toward hers.

“I like your answer, but not here.” With a sudden laugh, he released her.

In disbelief, she stared at him. When she saw his grin, she began to smile also. “What a vexing man you are!”

“So you have already said on more than one occasion.” He stood and held out his hand. “I think we should continue this conversation in more genteel surroundings. Miss Raymond's lad took to heart her insistence that the message be delivered only into my hand, and he waited several hours for me to return home.”

Phoebe glanced toward the window to discover that a lazy twilight was darkening the sky. Any remnants of the storm had long vanished, and she realized her nap had not been a short one. That was no surprise, for sleep had evaded her often during the past week. “I had no idea it was so late.”

“Late enough for many of Miss Raymond's patrons to be downstairs.” Laughing, he said, “Speaking with a few of them delayed me from getting up here as swiftly as I had wanted. Every minute I was caught up in the discussion of gossip, I feared was the very one when you would set your good sense aside and decide you had waited long enough. Then you would have come down the stairs, looking all tousled and with your reputation in tatters.”

“I believe I am wiser than that.”

“Except when you get an idea in your head that you need to be somewhere to help someone. Then you have the wisdom given to a goose.”

She could not argue with that. “But if I cannot go down the stairs, then how will I be able to leave? If I stay here all night, I certainly will be shunned by the Polite World. If that happens, I—”

Galen started to put his finger against her lips, then decided his lips would do much better to hush her concerns. The silken warmth of her hair spiraling around him as he drew her into his arms was intoxicating. If he pressed her back against the mattress again, would she push him away or pull him closer?

With a moan, he released her. His voice was raw with the need he fought to restrain. “Let's go. If we stay here, I will have to pay Miss Raymond for the use of this room.”

“Pay?” Her eyes grew wide; then she laughed. “I think you are presuming far too much, Galen Townsend.”

“It is easy to presume too much when one is alone with a lovely woman in a bordello.” He ran his finger along her shoulder, letting it slip beneath the rumpled silk of her sleeve. When she gasped gently, he stroked her fragrant skin. “I must own, however, that I do not need to be here to have such thoughts.”

“About what happened last—”

This time, he put his finger against her lips. If he was addle-witted enough to kiss her again, he was uncertain if he could stop with only the kisses that sent an aching hunger through him that threatened to strip him of all reasonable thought. “Before we delve into matters of the past, we need to think about your future and getting you out of here.” He picked up her slippers and frowned as he saw the stains on them. “Then you can answer my questions of how you came to be here and what happened to these.” Kneeling, he put her slippers on her feet.

She laughed. “Can it be you wish to be my charming prince?”

“I daresay I have done all required of such a gallant wretch by rescuing you from a life as a Cyprian.” He stood and tweaked her nose. “It is quite time for the princess to return to her castle, although you are a very bedraggled princess.”

He brought her to her feet. He knew he should resist, but as her soft laugh washed over him, he tugged her into his arms once more. There was nothing teasing about the kiss he placed on her lips. As her hands stroked his shoulders, he sought deep in her mouth for his pleasure. Soft puffs of her breath caressed his tongue as he fought his yearning to satisfy his need for her.

Gruffly, he murmured as he released her so quickly that she was rocked back on her heels, “Let's go.”

Dazed by the power his kisses had on her, Phoebe said nothing as Galen led her out of the room. Voices rose from the lower floor, and she choked back a gasp when she heard footfalls on the stairs from the foyer.

“This way,” Galen whispered.

She nodded as she matched his hurried steps toward the back of the house. When she saw another, far simpler staircase, she wanted to crow with relief. Her outburst would only draw attention to them, so she bit her lip as they went down the back stairs.

A motion at the base released a soft cry that she could not hold back. Galen put his hand on her arm. When she looked up at him, he wore a taut smile. She wished she knew what it meant.

Her steps slowed as a burly man with a thatch of startlingly red hair stood and faced them. His hand settled on a bludgeon at his side. Then he lifted his hand away. “Lord Townsend, Miss Raymond said I was to let you and—I was to let you out.”

“Thank you.” Galen's voice was clipped.

The man unlocked the door and held it open. “Good night.”

Hearing the door being locked behind them, Phoebe glanced back as they walked through the narrow garden. No garish lights from Miss Raymond's house announced its use in this elegant neighborhood. It might have been as respectable as its neighbors. She wondered if the other houses were brothels as well or if their residents even had an idea of what was transpiring in Miss Raymond's house. With the many gatherings that the
ton
reveled in, the arrivals and departures at her door might not be noticed. Or it might simply be that the neighbors ignored what was happening in their midst.

Galen's chuckle startled her.

“What is so funny?” she asked.

“I should say all of this, because I doubt if I have ever been in such a ridiculous predicament.” He drew her hand within his arm. “There is some comfort in knowing that that bully-back was even more uncomfortable than I was.”

“Bully-back?”

“A strong man who oversees the doors of a brothel.” He laughed. “I am surprised you have not heard the term during your excursions to the less well lit regions of London. Arlo ensures that none of Miss Raymond's patrons leave without settling their accounts with her.”

“Arlo is the man by the back door?”

He nodded. “He is a well-trained minion. He did everything he could not to acknowledge you. I am sure that Miss Raymond told him that he should not recall anything about you.”

Phoebe put her other hand on his arm as well. “I believe I have you to thank for that.”

“Actually you have Miss Raymond to thank for that. Think of the reputation her house would get if it was learned that ladies were welcomed there. No gentleman would visit again for fear of seeing his wife at the same time he was calling on his convenient.” He laughed. “She would be out of business in no time.”

“You seem to know a lot about schools of Venus.”

He put his hand over hers. Although she could not see his face well in the shadows, she guessed he was grinning. “To most ladies, I would give the quick response that my past is undoubtedly more sullied than yours. However, with you, it seems you have a gift for misdeeds and skirting the parameters of the Polite World that even my brother cannot claim.”

She started to retort but swallowed the words when she heard the regret that came into his voice each time he spoke of Carr Townsend. She said only, “Thank you, for rescuing me.”

“It seems to be becoming a habit, but I must own that I have reveled in playing the dashing hero for you this evening.” He ran his finger across her lips. “The prize for my bravery was sweet, and this time I did not have to fight anyone to save you. I only had to fight myself.”

She gazed up at him. “You know that you should not be complicating your life more with my predicaments.”

“I know.”

“You have enough to worry about with your brother.”

“I know.”

“If I were discovered to be Lady Midnight, then you could be ruined with me.”

“I know.” He took her hands and folded them between his. “Both of us know that, but it does not change anything, does it?”

“It must change everything. I will not stop what I am doing, and I will not endanger you more.”

Leading her toward the street, he said, “This is better discussed at Thistlewood Cottage.” He paused before stepping into the circle of light from the streetlamp. Looking both ways, he smiled. “No one, but Tate with the carriage. Let's go before someone chances to see you.”

Phoebe clenched her hand on his arm as she saw the carriage waiting beyond the light. She had to slow her feet, although she wanted to scurry to the carriage and into it and back to the familiar house on the other side of the bridge. The temptation to laugh was almost too much when she thought of how Mrs. Boyd had applauded her idea of a walk so she might sort out her priorities. Now she was more confused.

As Galen held out his hand to assist her into the carriage, she was startled when his young coachee asked, “Are you all right, Lady Phoebe?”

“Do not speak her name here,” Galen hissed.

Tate's chagrin was visible even in the darkness beyond the streetlamp. “Forgive me. I did not mean to do anything to endanger the lady.”

“I realize that.” Galen clapped him on the shoulder. “Just take us home, Tate.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As she stepped into the carriage and lowered herself gratefully to the familiar seat, she said, “Tate, I am fine. Thank you for asking.”

He tipped his cap to her and grinned before he swung up into the box.

When Galen sat beside her on the thick-cushioned seat, Phoebe needed no more than his finger against her cheek to persuade her to lean her head on his shoulder. She wanted to be beside him like this. Once they returned to the house, the brangle might begin anew. For now, she would delight in this stolen moment.

“Tell me,” he whispered against her hair. “Tell me how you came to be at Miss Raymond's.”

She did. His shoulder stiffened beneath her cheek when she spoke of trying to walk off her anger with him. It became more rigid than the walls of the carriage as she related her encounter with the rude men but relaxed again when she told him of the welcome from the storm that Miss Raymond had offered her.

“She was very kind, Galen.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes, but because I know so little of the demimonde that everything and everyone within it would surprise me. Were you astonished to receive a message from her about me?”

“Astonishment?” He chuckled. “That would be a mild description of what I felt. Any message I have previously received from Miss Raymond has been about Carr.”

“Yes, she mentioned they were friends.”

“Friends?” He laughed again.

“Her word, not mine.”

He framed her face with his wide hands. “What is it about you, Phoebe Brackenton, that makes everyone want to look after you? Could it be that your heart is so full of kindness that no one else can ignore it?”

“You are asking silly questions.”

Laughing when he did, she wanted to tell him to stop talking and to kiss her again. She should be pleased that he was showing good sense, even if she was not. If things had been different, she would gladly have risked her heart in its pursuit of his. But things were not different.

“Phoebe?” he asked gently, breaking into her thoughts.

As she looked up, he tilted her mouth under his, and she wondered if he had guessed what she had yearned for or if it was simply that he wanted the same. He leaned her across him, facing him, as his fingers blazed a path of pleasure around her waist. Taking care not to touch the bandaging she could feel beneath his waistcoat, her fingers stroked the wealth of muscles on his chest before rising to his nape and the warm skin she longed to explore.

“I was wrong,” he said, “to be so vexed with you last night when you offered your opinion.”

“I am sorry, too. I should not have thought I had a right to speak so. Carr is
your
brother, and he is your concern.”

“And you are a woman who cares too much about everyone she meets. My dear, you really have to stop trying to right all the wrongs in the world.”

“What is wrong now is that we are speaking of this when I wish …” Her words became a soft moan when he lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. Her eyes closed so she could savor the thrill of his kiss. Even through her dress and shift, she could sense the escalating heat of his body. Her hand against his back held him near.

Still holding her hand, he tipped her chin up with her own finger as he smiled. “We have wasted too much time.” He kissed her lightly.